Fractal Web
by Waspinatrix
Summary: What if Unicrom hadn't pushed to destroy the Matrix? What if Mutants did exsist in the Transformer Universe? This ep. birth of a nightmare chained. The rescue of a lifetime.
1. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 1)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
Phase One: Queen  
  
Battle... searing flash. Memory limited, vivid. Machines breathed for her. What was left of her; a seething mind locked in a useless pulp of flesh. No senses, no hope. How long -- how long has she been in this never ending hell? No way for Mara to know...  
~How cruel this fate.~  
"Yes." Of course it was!  
~God is laughing...~  
"Yeah, right, there's no such thing!"  
~Laugh back...~  
"How?" Was she finally going mad?  
~Come to me...~  
Mara felt the bitter need to laugh. First her body, now her mind betrayed her.  
~Come to me...~ Wrapped within the command were images; cold, freezing black, laced with distant pin-pricks of star-light burned into her mind's eye. The voice continued in her head, ~the ability to escape this retched existence is still within your grasp. Take it. Take this chance to avenge yourself.~  
"What are you?"  
~God...~  
"Prove it!" Liar!  
~Disprove me...~  
Mara could not conceive a reason to refuse the request of this madness. In entertaining thoughts of death, it had been given voice. Why not? Surely the quick end of a frozen explosion was better than this endless torture and loneliness.  
"Very well, God,' Lead on," Mara thought back sarcastically, as she drew on her innate powers. Lightning cascaded through dead nerves; the power focused on warping the space immediately around her. The hospital lights flickered out and the back up generators hummed to life. The equipment, that had extended her torture, overloaded and the heart monitor gave a high pitched keening, bewailing her demise. Mara was away of none of this, as she blinked out, transversing interstellar distances in the span of a few heartbeats.  
  
*  
  
Mara waited for Death's cold embrace, and nothing... Without eyes to see or ears to hear she had no idea of what was holding her from Death's door. Something was suspending her against the void. Fear clawed at her mind. What was going on?  
~Welcome Mara,~ the voice rang in her head, no longer sheathed in coaxing, or pity, its raw-iron power gripped, giving no quarter.  
"Who are you?" Mara forced herself to form coherent thoughts.  
~Your salvation from this prison of flesh.~  
"How?" Mara suspected that this was either an elaborate delusion of her mind or, possibly a reality...  
~A new body.~  
Oh this was just too funny, it had to be a delusion, but, at least it interacted with her, and she had been so lonely, "knock yourself out."  
~A chance for revenge.~ The voice paused.  
Mara, torn between feelings of insanity and her need for that comfort tensed when the voice stopped. She had to have just a little more time before making up her mind. "I'm listening."  
~Accept and live, or refuse and die.~  
Mara chose this as her reality; she was being given a chance to be capable, useful, a chance to avenge the wrongs she'd suffered. "What have I got to lose? Yes, do it!..."  
~Excellent,~ the voice purred.  
Mara thrashed back into convulsions. Pain firing though damaged nerves -- a staccato barrage of acid dipped needles. Her body stretched to the point of ripping, she blacked out in the overload...  
Blackness -- she wasn't alone. Opening her eyes, she saw a glowing, discorpreal Autobot standing before her, holding her hands, a steadying reassuring presence. How was this possible for a Transformer to hold her hands, the size difference was enormous.  
"I can, because I always have," he said cryptically.  
"I-" Mara said, struggling to remember his name.  
"It's not your time yet," he said gently, "not until all are one."  
"What?" Mara was confused by his obtuse comments, when she sensed him leaving. "Wait."  
"I've always been a part of you, now more than ever," he said, smoothing her hair aside, "you've never accepted me."  
"Wait!" She cried as he faded.  
As the cocoon of energy dissolved, Mara could see again, feel and move her limbs again. The sight that met her eyes was horrifying, defying reason. A monstrous planet loomed before her.  
~Welcome to life, Mara,~ its voice had an amused tone.  
Mara looked at her hands. Inhuman, robotic gauntlets, with rigid-plating. Her fingers ended in needle-fine points. She felt herself reel with shock. "What is this?" she demanded.  
~An improvement.~  
"A Mockery!" Mara raged, bitterness constricted her throat. She didn't want to end up like her mother.  
A wave of nauseating pain smashed through her. As the planet sad, ~I allow no dissension. Go...~ His order was accompanied with a new image, the destination she was ordered to go to.  
As the pain diminished, Mara glared for a moment of defiance at her master. She realized that in her rush to find relief she had signed a pact with hell. She truly was her mother's daughter. Summoning her power, she vanished, teleporting to Charr.  
  
***  
  
Phase Two: Rook   
  
FlameDancer lounged back in her chair, resting her optics. The screen before her was filled with text, one of many footnotes in her research -- a comprehensive history of Earth's religions. She had an unquenchable fascination, a driving need to comprehend the elusive Mysteries of Life.  
Springer leaned against the doorway, a hand-unit held behind him, as he watched her. FlameDancer's orange and yellow hide seemed to flicker with a subtle life of it's own, even when she was at rest. She may have changed, a new body, and name, but Springer would always love Arcee in any incarnation.  
"Springer," FlameDancer said, catching sight of the green robot.  
"In person," he smiled as he approached her and handed her the hand-unit, "here, this came though from Metroplex about an hour ago." She accepted the small computer and started reading the message. Her optics became unreadable as she looked up to Springer.  
"I must go to Metroplex. Is there a shuttle ready?" She announced, as she stood up. Springer frowned; he had previewed the message before giving it to her.  
"It's dangerous," he warned.  
"I know," she soothed, taking his hand, "but this is the only way to correct a fatal mistake. Doctor Reagan has done so much for us, so has Miss Benedict. We owe it to them."  
"There must be some other way-"  
"I'll be alright, Springer, you'll be with me." She asserted. Springer relented, though his mouth was still had it's obstinate twist on it. FlameDancer sighed. Springer would probably never understand.  
  
***  
  
Phase Three: Knight  
  
The laboratory, Charlie Reagan's adopted habitat, was cluttered with gadgets and devices made by his own hands. The circular platform in the center was his current focus, a cumulation of twenty years, more than half his life.  
Charlie blew the unruly strands of his nondescript, mousy hair off of his forehead as he ran a systems check for the ninth time. The hair fell back to rest on the rims of his glasses once more. Absorbed in more pressing matters, he forgot his need for a hair cut, again.  
Mara's dire situation had forced Charlie to rush the completion of this experiment. Especially if he didn't want his daughter' to suffer any longer. William Benedict, her guardian had denied Charlie permission to restore her humanity after the accident. Only Sarai, Mara's mother could counter the decision.  
"How are things on your end, Perceptor?" Charlie asked. Perceptor started rattling in his multi-syllable rhetoric. Charlie only listened for the Autobot scientist's tone of voice, have learned long ago that when he was in a rush and needed a simple answer, Perceptor's tone was a good indicator. Even though Charlie could decipher his friend, time was pressing.  
Charlie swore under his breath, "where IS she?" He was anxious to push this project forward, for Mara's sake.  
"FlameDancer is en route. She Departed posthaste, determined to participate in this endeavor..." Perceptor elaborated, sparing his small companion a glance.  
Charlie ran his hand through his hair and exhaled, exasperated. He suddenly tensed, filled with last minute thoughts... was he forgetting something?!? "The medi-bed!" He exclaimed.  
"Was procured forty-three minutes ago." Perceptor reminded him. Charlie sighed, he felt redundant, useless... The lab door slid open, disrupting his self-pity. Springer entered, followed by FlameDancer. Charlie noticed her otherworldly aspect, as he usually did on the few times he saw her. She was constructed as a priestess of Vector Sigma, the female counter-part to the matrix barer.  
"I am here as you requested, Dr. Reagan," FlameDancer said, as the door slid shut behind her.  
"Thank you," Charlie managed. He indicated a chair with a HUD helmet jacked into it. FlameDancer obliged him by sitting down. Perceptor helped her adjust the helmet.  
"The relevant data is already within the computer," Charlie said, as he hovered over the control panel nervously. The few preliminary, full-scale tests he had run had been devastating. This time he was trying something radical, and he prayed it worked.  
"All you have to do is guide Sarai here." Charlie instructed as he primed the machine. The hum, at first unperceptible, grew in intensity, vibrating the area. Charlie prayed -- to a god he rarely acknowledged since the death of his parents -- that this venture would work, as he pulled the switch. There was no turning back.  
FlameDancer gasped, pressing into the chair back. Her soul shot from her like a cannon. Reality shattered into a turbulent maelstrom, a sickening whorl of incoherent impressions. She struggled to stay cohesive as her senses were bombarded with input she couldn't begin to comprehend. For an eternal moment the oneness of many cacophonied, as the dimensions twisted and convulsed, turning inside out.  
The feeling of being ripped from herself, FlameDancer held on as the shift froze and reality reintegrated itself, swallowing her in its depth. She was stunned, hardly aware of herself. Where was she? The data-feed from the helmet forced her awareness to refocus. Earth... Daybreak... Battle... Battle... FlameDancer stirred. Watching the aftermath of the daring rescue, replaying twenty years after it had happened.  
Prowl was carrying Charlie -- a youth, not out of his teens yet. Sarai, decked out in Power Armor, was providing cover for Prowl's escape. Charlie screamed and Prowl stood by helplessly, as Megatron's cannon came to bare on Sarai. FlameDancer remembered herself, and refocused the scene just as Megatron fired. Sarai was engulfed by the fusion beam, and was gone...  
  
*  
  
FlameDancer labored to shield Sarai from the void between realities. Blackness, more shock. FlameDancer lifted her head, remembering that she had a helmet on, she removed it. The sight that met her optic was devastating. Charlie was kneeling on the platform, cradling the limp form of Sarai, crying as he held the young woman to her. How could I have come so close, and fail?! FlameDancer despaired. Charlie looked up at her. Wiping his face announced with relief, "She's alive!"  
  
  
***  
  
Phase Four: Bishop  
  
~Galvatron,~ Unicrom's Ubiquitous voice filtered into the mind of his servant.  
"Unicrom(!)," Galvatron seethed, ire beating through his fuel-pump.  
~I am sending you a helpmeet. A means to rise up against our enemies.~  
Galvatron listened, reigning his reaction, he casually asked, "what is this means you speak of?"  
~A living Matrix...~  
Galvatron laughed at the audacious comment, saying, "you jest! There's only one ma--Ahrgrh--" he was cut off mid-sentence, as his body was lanced with pain.  
~The warrior will arrive soon, Galvatron.~ Unicrom said, as he withdrew from his slave.  
Galvatron made no reply, as he silently raged at the indignities he was forced to bare. Perhaps her could use this so-called Matrix to revenge himself on Unicrom. The idea appealed, providing a sense of comfort as he summoned Cyclonus.  
  
***  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 2)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
Phase Five: Game Start  
(Part 1)  
  
Sarai turned as Charlie screamed with anguish. She saw the look of horror on Prowl's face, as her vision washed away with a tidal wave of heat from behind. She tried to scream as she felt herself cooked to death. My daughter!... Prowl!... She thought with remorse -- her life incomplete as she surrendered to the inevitable...  
A presence enveloped her, shielding her from oblivion, yanking her backwards, body and soul dragged, falling through a vortex of madness. God? She wondered, as she passed out under the deluge. Sarai woke -- inhaling sharply!  
"Shhh, you're alright," Charlie soothed as he gently guided her back to her pillow. Sarai could hardly see in the dimness of the room.  
"Oh God, Charlie, I had the worst dream! You were--"  
"It wasn't a dream, Sarai," Charlie interrupted her as he turned on the bedside lamp. Sarai sat-up, blinking against the glare.  
"What do you -- Charlie! What happened to you?" She demanded as her vision cleared. She reached out to touch Charlie's face, and stopped... Her hands, they were *both* flesh! What was going on? Charlie clutched her hand in his own.  
"Sarai, I brought you back. It took twenty years..."  
"I --"  
"Died twenty years ago."  
"I -- Oh God! Mara.." She was interrupted, as she caught sight of Charlie's distraught face. Fear constricted her throat, not wanting to hear the news she felt coming. Her voice raw as she forced herself to ask, "Mara?" Praying it wasn't as bad as she was making it out to be.  
"She's --" Charlie felt his voice faltering, unshed tears blurred his vision. He had tried so hard to keep his promise, now he was paying for failure, with interest. He had to be the one that shattered Sarai, if only he had succeeded! "She died moments after I brought you forward in time.  
"She had gotten involved in a battle, and was hurt badly, needing to be bionically reconstructed. William refused permission. She apparently committed suicide..." He couldn't go on. Separating himself from her, he withdrew, ashamed, grief-stricken.  
Sarai wept. What kind of hell was this to wake up to? To suddenly re-exist, for her to life change with a blink of an eye? Mara, her only daughter gone?!? Had everything changed so radically, was it all gone? She looked up to Charlie. "Prowl?" she asked, "Is he --"  
"I'm sorry.." He couldn't bring himself to tell her of one more death.  
"Why Charlie? What did I do to deserve this?" She demanded. The sound of glass breaking startled her and she shied away. Charlie sat down, dropping his shattered glasses. Sarai stared at the broken frames, and realized that they were smeared with blood.  
"I'm -- Please forgive me, please!" he begged, burying his face in his hands, "you don't deserve this. Anything but this!" He didn't deserve to be in the company of this angel.  
Regretting her harsh words, Sarai reached out to him. He had always been there for her, in the orphanage, when she needed her humanity restored. He had always worked miracles, somehow keeping her messed up life together. How could she be so petty? She chastised herself, as he accepted her comfort. Together they cried for their mutual losses.  
  
***  
  
(Part 2)  
Charr, burned out and brittle, a husk of what it once was. Desolate rock, scrubbed raw by the poisonous atmosphere, jutted and thrust out of the dust, like jagged hands clawed in pain and pleading for salvation; the stark silence of the damned and dying. The natives long extinct, Charr's only inhabitants were the Decepticons, exiles from Cybertron.  
Galvatron surveyed the skyline. Clouds, brooding black, heavy with their caustic rains rose ominously over the horizon. Nightshade stepped forward at Galvatron's beckoning gesture. Her cloak or black and white feathers gently fluttering in the chill breeze. She knelt, and averted her optics with proper decorum.  
"My Lord Galvatron?" she asked. The Decepticon leader ignored her for the moment, he would acknowledge her in his own time. Cyclonus, standing on Galvatron's right, shifted uneasily.  
Galvatron sensed his second in command's mood. Don't worry, Galvatron thought, your precious NightShade is still of use to me. Without shifting his gaze, Galvatron spoke, his rich, imperial voice holding an air of casualness, "a new warrior is joining Decepticon ranks. Wait here, welcome him, show him around then bring him to my chamber."  
NightShade listened to the hidden nuances in her Lord's command, hearing the urgency between the lines. "Yes Lord. When is he due?" She asked, as her optics discretely locked gazes with Cyclonus, a thin wire of tension vibrated between them -- there would be a future confrontation. Galvatron seemed to enjoy the strife he generated in his minions.  
"Excellent..." Galvatron purred, gesturing to the entourage. He glanced down at the female Decepticon. She was admirable in her manor, and a capable vassal; pity she was female, a most weak and useless form... Cyclonus would want to stay with NightShade. Galvatron looked at his second, and Cyclonus reluctantly deferred to his superior, leaving with the rest of them to return to the citadel.  
NightShade sighed as she watched them fly into the distance. Turning her attention to the horizon, she gauged the coming onslaught of acid rain, it'd be soon. She sighed. The Decepticons were rabid and foul to the fuel pump. Cyclonus was sometimes more of a liability than an asset in the careful balance she had to negotiate for the Autobot cause.  
Lightning - a blinding flash, struck nearby. Startled, NightShade could feel the static electricity strike and dissipate, like a wave, as she instinctively shielded her face with one arm. The immediate thunderclap made her cringe. Squinting her optics NightShade understood why Galvatron had found it beneath him to greet the warrior in person, it was female.  
The stranger had an exotic, alien beauty, with hint of organic, her black and scarlet hair falling down her back like a cloak. Her frame was willowy and slightly smaller than NightShade. Her hide bi-colored, glossy crimson and jetblack, like fresh blood and a moonless night. She shifted, observing her surroundings, that was when her sinister techno-demon visage came into view. She had long tapering spikes on her knees, elbows and shoulders. Taloned fingers, shielded by knuckle blades. A pair of svelte horns crowned her head, gracefully curving around before veering out to form wicked points.  
As the demoness turned, her azure optics locked onto NightShade. NightShade read the glare, fresh anger, determination simmered just below the surface of this creature. NightShade grew wary, not sure what this stranger's attitude would portend too, but it wasn't good...  
"Welcome. Please, come quickly before the rains come," NightShade said urgently as she indicated the distant fortification as their destination. The new arrival seemed about to speak, and stiffened, a look of shock, then frustration crossed her face, followed by an unreadable expression. As if suddenly aware of NightShade's presence, and pressing situation, she gestured for NightShade to lead on.  
"Where are you from?" NightShade asked, more affable as their brisk pace brought them out of danger. There was no reply.  
  
*  
  
~Unicrom-!~ The anguished cry burned through Galvatron, causing a pang of empathy to pierce his fuel-pump. He knew that tone. How often had he used it himself, how many times had he privately borne the scathing humility of losing control and chains of pain, enough to understand the rage imbedded in that tone...  
Soon after, the warrior that Unicrom had promised arrived. Galvatron leaned back with a relaxed elegance to receive the harbinger of hope. He was disappointed at the sight of her. A female, with a marked organic look no less... Appalling! Her form gave no hint as to what her secondary mode might be, if any at all. Masking his reaction, he rose and descended from the dais.  
"Who are you?" he asked, his manner imperialistic.  
  
*  
  
Mara knew this Decepticon instinctively, he was the root of her life-long sufferings! ~You killed my mother!~ her mind screamed, thoughts focusing into a coherent projection of thought. Galvatron looked puzzled, as if he'd heard her, but didn't understand the comment. Mara snapped with outrage and lunged at him.  
Galvatron caught the hellcat by the wrists before she could do more than scratch his face. Mara's mouth opened in a silent pantomime of screaming, she couldn't stand his look of insolence. She summoned the lightning, intending to strike him down -- Fire frayed every nerve in her body. Mara fell, exhausted, dangling helplessly from Galvatron's steel grip.  
  
*  
  
Fuming, Galvatron aimed his cannon at her head. A warning sting pulsed through him. ~Desist,~ Unicrom whispered, ~she is not to be harmed.~ Galvatron relented. Pitching her to the floor to vent his frustration.  
"Who are you?" he demanded, not at all pleased with the situation.  
~Mara,~ her weary words impaled with a backbone of arrogance as they locked glares. She saw no recognition, no meaning to her name in his optics. The fantasy of revenge hinged on her desire to see that flash of comprehension, perhaps even regret before she gutted him. He had to care if she were to feel vindicated. She would make him care. Her optics flashed, her decision made. She bowed her head, breaking optic contact.  
~Please forgive me,~ the thought demure, her calm a startling contrast to the blind-rage she had moments ago... Galvatron relaxed his guard slightly, seeing that he had won this battle.  
  
*  
  
NightShade observed the unfolding drama. Galvatron and the female seemed to hold a dialog, even though the female never uttered a word. Perhaps she was telepathic... There would be much in her next report...  
  
***  
  
(Part 3)  
"NightShade," Cyclonus called to her. Looking over to him she smiled warmly at him as she joined him. Though she would only admit to it as part of her duty, she genuinely cared for this Decepticon. His feelings were mutual, and he had felt relief to hear that the new warrior was female...  
Cyclonus offered her a portion of his energon. NightShade great fully accepted, her own rations pathetically small; barely enough for her to function efficiently. "Thank you," she murmured as she settled in the shelter of his embrace.  
He watched how she consumed the life-giving energon, slowly, careful not to waste one drop. Cyclonus often wondered if she got enough fuel, but NightShade never complained. Once he had asked her and she was elusive, saying she received what she needed.  
NightShade spoke of what happened between Mara and Galvatron, frowning as her imagination speculated the possibilities. "Cyclonus, she's dangerous," she said, turning to face him, " foe her to challenge Galvatron, she's either stupid or more powerful than she seems. And she strikes me as anything but stupid. Be wary of her."  
"I will. I promise."  
  
***  
  
(Part 4)  
Sarai still marveled at her new cybernetic limbs. She hadn't looked so human in three -- no, the reminded herself, twenty-three years. The new limbs meant she had to be careful, she could feel pain again, and there was, to her anyway, a noticeable reduction in strength when compared to the old limbs. Some how Charlie had retained the hover and flight capabilities without detracting from the flesh and blood appearance of her prosthetics when he reconstructed her.  
"Good morning, Sarai," FlameDancer greeted. Sarai looked at the female Autobot, hovering at optic level.  
"Hello..." She said. There was something about the female in front of her, something familiar about her...   
"I'm FlameDancer."  
"You're the one who pulled me from death!" Sarai exclaimed in a sudden moment of clarity. She had mixed feelings about her life, but one thing was clear to her: "Thank you for risking your life for mine."  
FlameDancer nonchalantly shrugged it off. She seemed to cavalier about the danger she had transversed. Sarai put the impression to the side, as FlameDancer distracted her with a question.  
"I'm going to Lookout Point. Would you like to join me?" Her tranquil blue optics clouded slightly as they focussed for a moment on the spaceport beyond, to a time before her death, an irretrievable past...  
"I would," Sarai said.  
  
*  
  
The vista of verdant mountains below and eternal blue skies above invoked a poignant sense of nostalgia with its vast expansion of emptiness. "Do you ever feel like you're left behind?" Sarai asked, her gaze focused on the beauty below.  
"Constantly," FlameDancer breathed, drawing her knees beneath her chin. "I know what it's like to be ripped out of the flow of life and be jammed back in backwards, the niche of reality built with memories warped and strange."  
Sarai nodded, agreeing with the apt description. The thoughts turning to Prowl, she said, "I just wish I had a chance to say good-bye."  
"She died well," FlameDancer said, assuming that Sarai meant Mara.  
Sarai laughed an empty, bitter laugh, "in that light, they all died well." She murmured, remembering her parents, her foster father, her beloved, and her daughter. They were all gone -- taken from her. Loneliness waxed, and her eyes fell to the steep drop below. FlameDancer turned to her.  
"To take arms against a sea of troubles..." she said, correctly reading the body language of her small companion.  
"Hamlet, I know him well," Sarai said, making eye contact with FlameDancer. Smiling ruefully, "Charlie and I --" She paused. She had been so caught up with her own grief that she never thought about Charlie, how he must have suffered. "Poor Charlie!"  
"Grief can be illuminating," FlameDancer commented, "bring on a sober mind, even insight."  
Sarai swallowed, glancing once more over the precipice. Wondering if Prowl knew, now with nothing holding her back, if asked again, she would chose to give up her frail humanity to be with him. She sighed, saying cryptically, " I knew he would die. I sensed it when he chose his world over me." She stopped just short of saying "and Mara." It was still a bitter memory, best kept private.  
  
***  



	3. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 3)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 5)  
As Buster Witwicky stumbled into the lab, Charlie looked up and was dismayed by his friend's wretched appearance. Buster waved him away, unwilling to accept charity. Charlie shrugged and sat back down, saying, "you look like a zombie. Have you slept at all in the last week?"  
Buster shook his head as he slumped against a counter. This lab was some sort of catalyst point, people who entered never left the same. He was one of them. Twelve years ago. At age twenty-six, during a bout of drinking with Charlie... What had he said? He couldn't remember verbatim, but it was something like, "how can a man define himself in the dark?" He had meant Charlie, and how he squirreled himself in this dank dungeon of a lab day after day.  
"We, both you and I know all too well, don't we Buster?" Charlie had responded with that infuriating way he had of sounding coherent when drunk. The comment struck a nerve in Buster. He ended up being bonded to WhirlBlade. Being irrevocable changed, his "wholeness" now the part of a greater "sum," and suffering from vulnerability, knowing he was incomplete. This week felt like eternity, being denied his other self... Buster clenched and relaxed his fist with the flurry of emotion. Charlie waited patiently for his friend to formulate his words, to express his reasons for being here.  
"What do I tell Sarai about her daughter, Charlie?" Buster managed though his anguish, guilt and anger. The near-loss of WhirlBlade weighed on him.  
"If anything," Charlie said, " the truth. Mara chose to enter the battle. All WhirlBlade did was save her life."  
"But --"  
"Sarai may not appreciate the situation, but I've never known her to reject reality."  
"Thank you, Charlie," Buster wasn't convinced, incapable of accepting it and it showed in his voice.  
"How is WhirlBlade anyway?"  
"Recovering," Buster admitted, his life held in a delicate balance as long as WhirlBlade was still in pain.  
  
***  
  
(Part 6)  
Mara paced the storage bay, rubbing the bruises on her wrists. Unicrom in his craft, had given her the means, while blocking the ways of the revenge she wanted. Blocking her driving desire, her sole purpose -- to avenge her mother's death! There had to be a way to circumvent Unicrom's will. A way to pierce Galvatron's armor; to psychologically tear him asunder -- with interest due.  
Galvatron was strong, intelligent, charismatic, chauvinistic, and most importantly proud -- egotistical. Mara has ascertained that much on first meeting him. NightShade's method of mannerism seemed reliable to keep Galvatron off his guard. Mara thought about this. NightShade seemed ignorant, or uninterested in exploiting the potential she had cracked open, instead she was comfortable with hiding safely. Mara wouldn't do that. She would use this resource handed her to its fullest potential.  
Sensing that she was being watched, Mara stopped pacing, making optic contact with Ravage. His optics flashed a baleful yellow as he realized that he had been discovered, and he dashed away. Mara smiled, feeling herself come to life in the face of this challenge. She seized this opportunity to fight. Galvatron was taking precautions with her, marking him as suspicious of her. She would rise above it, and see him broken before her.  
  
***  
  
(Part 7)  
Springer stared at the report, shaking his head in disbelief. It had to be a sick joke, or an unrelated coincidence. A female transformer had joined the Decepticons, and she called herself Mara.  
FlameDancer reclaimed the hand-unit and read the reconnaissance summery once more, her optics narrowing, as she said, "Poor Sarai. What are you going to do about this?" her voice calmer than she felt. Sarai was in a vulnerable position right now. A strike of fate that she now out lived her daughter.  
"Nothing. It's a coincidence. What good would it do to tell Sarai?" Springer answered.  
FlameDancer turned away, silent.  
"What would you have me do?" Springer demanded, taken aback by her odd behavior. Her increasing ambiguity confounded him.  
"Only what you chose," she murmured, refusing to look at him.  
Springer waited a moment longer shrugging his feelings of futility and walked away. It hurt him when she undermined him, it affected his confidence, and he was afraid to confront the issue, not wanting to lose her.  
  
***  
  
Phase Seven: Strategy Unraveled  
(Part 1)  
Galvatron loomed on his throne, chin resting on fist as his unfocused optics gazed to the memory of his home, Cybertron. A home light-years and lifetimes away. A home he longed to return to, on his own terms. It quelled him to be denied Cybertron. How could he take his rightful place in his dubious position of limited troops, and negligible supplies?  
~Your mind turns to conquest,~ Mara's questioning statement had a confident, rhetorical ring to it. Galvatron, his private thoughts intruded upon, glared at her. She knelt before him, her hair spreading out like a cloak of scarlet and ebony about her shoulders. Her manners had improved dramatically since they first met, he noted from her posture. He liked her this way, and his glare softened, but not entirely: there was still something in her tone of speech that refused to be submissive.  
"You speak out of turn."  
~Indeed Lord,~ Mara projected, lowering her head till it almost touched the floor, ~please forgive my impertinence.~ Men were men, she thought to remind herself, they can only be coaxed with inoffensive bate. She could feel Galvatron looking away.  
~I have offended you, Lord, when we first met. Allow me to make penance,~ her slender body shifting closer to him. In her short time of being on Charr, she had observed these creatures. Noting that they had human-like dispositions, more so than they cared to admit. Mara was gambling that Galvatron was no different.  
Galvatron looked at her, as if for the first time. "Where did Unicrom find you?" he asked. Since he had won their first confrontation, and she had begun to acknowledge his superiority, he in turn had begun to let his guard slip down.  
~Unicrom refashioned my broken body after Autobots left me to die,~ she answered, unwilling to elaborate more than that. Instead she pushed deeper under his defense by appealing to his ego. ~Please, Lord, let me atone for my earlier error.~  
Against reason, he was moved by her plea. His pride swelling, but still, he would watch her... "You've done well learning your proper place here. I will think on your request. Leave me."  
~My Lord,~ Mara projected softly, as she rose. Her movements, silk and flowing water, drifted her out of his chamber. Cyclonus watched the interaction between them, a concerned frown on his lips.  
"Be wary, Galvatron," Cyclonus uttered, " the female bodes ill. NightShade warns-"  
"Yes, I'm sure she does," Galvatron said with a wave, dismissing the issue. He would listen to Cyclonus, but NightShade? Knowing NightShade's own dubious position, he wouldn't expect her to speak highly of Mara?  
"Cyclonus, I want you to replenish our energon supplies." Galvatron ordered his second-in-command, trusting him to fulfil the objective. Cyclonus nodded once, deferring to his leader.  
"As you command, Galvatron," he said, as he strode out to gather the raiding party. Galvatron watched his second go. Cyclonus was indispensable, having integrity, and loyalty. Many times Cyclonus had worked above and beyond the call of duty, methodically tackling the challenges Galvatron set forth.  
Galvatron shook his head, regretting. Cyclonus lacked passion, charisma -- the ability to inspire loyalty and terror of his followers by sheer force of will. Sometimes even lacking initiative and imagination, not that in itself was bad. It meant one less front Galvatron had to guard against. Still, what would his people do without leadership? StarScream would have made a better replacement, except for his ambition and avarice had caused him to overstep his bounds.  
There were moments that Galvatron actually missed StarScream, the only Decepticon that came close to being his equal. Yes, he was missed, but rarely...  
  
*  
  
(Part 2)  
Mara smiled to herself. She would make sure she was in Cyclonus' group. Decepticons favored earth as a planet to pillage. It would give her a chance to make humans suffer. Transformers caused death, but humans -- humans inflicted miseries unbearable, intolerable!  
She had never asked, or deserved to be born Homo Sapient Superior -- a mutant. To be abandoned by her human father, hated by her human uncle, or shunned by a human God. To be feared by humans in general. Let them face their fear incarnate. Let them feel the hell-fire they had begot and threw away!  
  
***  
  
(Part 3)  
Sarai sat quietly on the examination table as Charlie fine-tuned the calibrations of her limbs. Any casual observer would never know that both her legs as well as her left arm were artificial.  
"I'm almost done," Charlie announced over the crackle of his soldering gun. A few moments later, he said, "finished," as he smiled and put the synthetic skin in place. Sarai flexed her bionic fingers.  
"Amazing, little brother," she breathed, "I can hardly detect a difference between my right and left hands!" She looked up, and lost her smile, Charlie's face was pensive.  
"What? Did I say something wrong?" she asked concerned.  
"No.. I--"  
"The limbs are fine. Better than the ones you first gave me," Sarai said quickly, interrupting him. Afraid that her desire for her old, flesh and blood limbs was too apparent.  
Charlie laughed self-consciously, saying, "I hope so. These bionics are the best I can make currently." He ran his hand though his unruly hair and cleared his throat, "it's just after knowing you for over thirty years. Of --" he faltered.  
Sarai studied his haggard face, with the wrinkles of a man fresh into his declining years. It was a sharp reminder that he was no longer five years her junior, but now fifteen years her senior. She sighed, "I guess it's silly to call you little' anymore, huh?"  
"Or brother,'" Charlie interjected, breaking eye contact with her, he continued, "Sarai, I've loved you ever since we meet in the orphanage. And not in a "brotherly" way either."  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Of all things she suspected, this was the last.  
"And have you call me little brother' again? I couldn't handle it a second time," Charlie started to put away the soldering gun to give himself a focal point of distraction. He had nailed the coffin shut, he might as well bury it. "Besides, you still had Prowl, even if the two of you couldn't be together properly as lovers. Between him, and your preconceived ideas of me, what chance did I have?"  
"This is why you waited so long to bring me back?!" Sarai was suddenly seized with a righteous fury, "Prowl had to be out of the way!" She burned until she saw the hurt twist Charlie's face before he turned away.  
"Never that. Prowl and I became friends in our shared grief over losing you. Confiding in each other things you would never know. We watched helplessly as Mara was ripped away from us and placed with your bother. I would have given my life for any of you.  
"Twenty precious years are gone. And accusations are what I get? I would have preferred you and Prowl both to have lived, and blissfully ignorant than this.  
"I opened my heart to you. It's properly shredded now. Please leave." he finished.  
Charlie had changed over the years. She had never known him to be so verbal, or to be so openly hurt by her misplaced anger.  
"Charlie--"  
"GO!!" he yelled, followed by a hoarse whisper, "please."  
Sarai forced Charlie to turn towards her with the vice-grip of her left hand on his arm. Her probing gaze saw the suppressed tears of anguish in his eyes. It was like stripping him twenty-six years. For a moment she saw the little boy devastated by the death of their foster father. She slowly shook her head to clear the vision.  
"Charlie, I'm sorry," she said as she released him. " I've known you a long time, and you've always been good to me. You were the only one that really cared for me for a long time. You restored my broken body," she flexed her bionic had for emphasis, "and my anger was grossly misplaced when I accused you like that.  
"Give me a chance Charlie. Your twenty years aren't mine. Let me come to grips with what I've lost before expecting me to appreciate what I've just found."  
He nodded, numb and wordless. He had waited half-sick with torment, of repressed desire most of his life. Never expecting to have the courage to lay himself open a second time.  
It hadn't occurred to him that she couldn't bounce back so easily from the temporal distortion, a non-sequence of her personal history with so little time to adjust. She had always been the resilient one. Then it sunk in, she hadn't rejected him per se, rather, and all she asked for was a chance to be human.  
  
***  



	4. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 4)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 4)  
Leadership - wearing a yoke while balancing precariously on a pedestal. Springer could imagine Rodimus Prime's dilemma. The weight of power could easily crush anyone's sense of sanity, making one want more or less than what one had.  
In one of her in-depth studies of Earth social-political histories, FlameDancer had discovered a parallel between human and cybertronian government structures. Decepticons followed a form of totalitarianism as opposed to the Autobots' divine monarchy. The Kingship marked by baring the Matrix.  
The Autobot Leader could choose his second in command, or Heir Apparent . Yet it was always the wisdom of the Matrix that would realize the new Leader (i.e. Hot Rod), or reject him (i.e. Ultra Magnus).  
Springer, finding FlameDancer's analogy, had asked, half jokingly, if the Matrix would accept him as the next Leader. She knew the answer, being the Priestess of Vector Sigma, and held her tongue. Springer didn't push for an answer, dreading the implications of silence, and even more, any answer. He only hoped that Rodimus Prime's leadership would last as long, or longer than his predecessor, Optimus Prime.  
Intrigued, Sarai listened to FlameDancer's thesis. The female Autobot was magnetic, and animated as she spoke of the richness of human heritage and its similarities to her race's history. Charlie listened with half an ear as he doodled out some new idea that had recently hooked his attention.  
Springer lounged back, just glad to take a break from the mundane routines of life. It was pleasant to have FlameDancer so alive and emotionally unbarred . The short-lived repose was broken by the booming wail of Metroplex's alarms. Springer was on his feet.  
Metroplex, report!" he ordered.  
"Decepticon activity, three hundred miles to the east." Metroplex calmly said, a strange paradox to the nerve-wracking klaxons that had rousted the group. "There is an estimate of ten entities."  
"Notify the Arialbots, have them meet me at the runway!" Springer commanded, as he ran out of the room. Sarai caught up with him in the corridor. She stopped short at the receiving end of Springer's quizzical glance, realizing that she wasn't even in power armor, certainly not prepared for battle with transformers. She smiled sheepishly.  
"Save a dance for me later, okay?" she said, watching him transform to helicopter mode.  
"Don't worry," he called back, "the tango isn't over yet!" As he took off to join the arialbots.  
  
***  
  
(Part 5)  
Mara shared the responsibility of loading the precious cargo of energon cubes onto the transport. She was absorbed with her recent ordeal, when some strange sixth sense deep within her flashed with insight. She wasn't sure why; she just know. ~Autobots!~ She broadcast to her fellow Decepticons. Dropping the energon cube she pointed towards the western sky.  
Cyclonus looked, confirming the impending danger. "NightShade, Mara," he ordered, "secure the energon we have and retreat! We'll catch up to you." As he gestured the sweeps to engage the enemy. NightShade rushed to obey.  
Mara felt the submerged with a strange draw; something primal was vying for her attention, calling to her. It was over-riding any inclination she might have had to follow Cyclonus' order.  
In a spectacular blaze of blue, Mara transformed. Not by modular re-arrangement of body components, but on the molecular level. Launching herself into flight, as a sleek aerofighter, streaking past the pack of Sweeps. On an intercept course with the green helicopter, the object of her sudden and strange obsession. This was becoming a game of chicken, she had the speed...  
  
*  
  
...He had the maneuverability. Springer veered to the side, just avoiding the collision. He had never seen the red jet before, it must be the new Decepticon. Her recklessness startled him. He couldn't afford to give her an advantage like that again. He had to act, to neutralize her before she could pull the foolhardy stunt again. Bringing his weapons to bare on her, he fired.  
The barrage hit full on, absorbed by a field that surrounded her. She disappeared in a flash of blue lightning. His collision warning went off again as his gyro-sensors were jolted by the sudden shift of weight to his left side. Pain needled though his hide as the female Decepticon anchored her claws into him.  
  
*  
  
Mara clung to the green metal hide. She gloried, finally, she could stand toe-to-toe against these juggernauts. She was tempted to gore the robot beneath her with her knee-spike, but resisted, choosing instead to be satisfied with knowing she had the power to dispatch him easily by striking a vital function.  
The helicopter dove head long for the earth below, attempting to shake her off of him. She released him at the last moment, as she felt him beginning to transform. Landing gracefully on her feet.  
  
*  
  
Springer managed to throw her. Transforming, his legs absorbed the shock of impact. Turning to face her, his sword drawn. It was surprising to him how alike she looked to Sarai; it was like looking at a negative, with this robot's dark, sinister appearance.  
The female backed away from him, her optics warily watching his wickedly long, sharp blade. Her hand shot up, aiming towards his head. The air shimmered around her, then crackled, as an arch or lightning bolted forth. He dove, his back tingled from the energy as it shot over him, barely missing him.  
  
*  
  
Mara didn't like of the blade in his hands, it was capable of cleaving her quasi-biological flesh. Her powers only protected against energy attacks. And there was something about this Autobot that prevented her from lashing out at him, almost as if to strike him was to strike at herself. Before she could begin to fathom these feelings, she had to get rid of a distraction -- the upcoming sweep was in for a nasty shock. Mara smiled sadistically, as she raised her hand and bolted the sweep. It fell, internally fried.  
  
*  
  
Springer rushed forward, tackling her before she could fire again. They made optic contact as she fell back. He stood over her, his sword poised. He hesitated to strike the deathblow, as she watched him unflinching as time seemed to stop. The confrontation took on a surrealistic feeling as she smiled, then vanished in a flash. His skin crawled with the sensation of the residue energy of her departure.  
He tried to make sense of the feelings she had invoked in him, dawning on his consciousness in the aftermath of battle's end. The Decepticons had retreated. Leaving the Autobots to assess the damage they left in the wake of their raid. Springer was surprised to learn that the only casualty of this encounter was a plant worker, both arms and several ribs were broken. A minor incident when it concerned the Decepticons.  
The scattered energon cubes indicated that the Decepticons were trying to replenish their dwindling supplies. They were pitiable in their pride. Even starving, and desperate, their egos refused to beg for aid; rather they chose to help themselves like wolves to a sheepfold.  
Silverbolt pulled Springer aside, saying, "you know that female you were fighting? She downed one of her own to save your hide." Seeing Springer's conflicting feelings rise up, Silverbolt shrugged, "just thought you may want to know."  
This female Decepticon, 'Mara' as he confirmed that was what she was called, was strange, inconsistent, intriguing in her refusal to be pegged so easily. It baffled him. Why would she attack him recklessly, then defend him? She had also been identified as the one that inflicted injury on the hapless human. Crushing him in her hand maliciously, then quite unexpectedly putting him down gently, before it became fatal. Why? What internal conflicts did she suffer from? And why, for that matter, was he drawn to her?  
  
***  
  
(Part 6)  
NightShade sat at the helm. The transport would make planet fall soon. Its precious cargo only a third of what was required for mere survival. Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, NightShade spun around, her pistol drawn. Seeing that it was Mara, shouldering the burden of a wounded sweep, NightShade relaxed her guard, holstering her gun.  
Mara ignored the pilot, as she eased the dying sweep on to her lap. The sweep's red optics flickered weakly, as his blue hide began to fade to grey, losing its natural luster. He was having a massive systems failure, the grievous injuries inflicted by Mara. She gently placed soothing hands over his mulled chest.  
NightShade watched the two as they began to glow with a golden inner-luminance, centering on Mara's hands. The burns on the sweep's chest ceased to exist. As the healthy gloss of his hide returned, his color scheme more vivid than it had ever been in his life. As the aura subsided, Mara looked up at NightShade, addressing her for the first time.  
~Fetch an energon cube.~ Mara's request was calm, the insistence not a harsh demand. NightShade understood the necessity, and rushed to get an energon cube. Returning she handed it to Mara.  
Mara helped the sweep sit up to receive the nourishment of the shimmering energy. ~Welcome back, ThunderCracker.~ She projected to the sweep as she set aside the drained container.  
His vitality restored, the sweep sat erect, studying his arms, his hands, his surroundings, they were unfamiliar to him. Turning to Mara he said, "No one's called me that for a long time. I--?  
~I restored your memory banks,~ Mara smiled warmly at him. As if gripped by a demon, her face distorted in pain, as her body spasmed, throwing her to the ship's floor. Fighting the sudden chaos of the situation, the sweep rushed to hold her capitulating form.  
"What's happening?" the sweep demanded, anxiously.  
NightShade, helping to hold Mara's struggling body down made no answer, at this point, she had no clue, though suspicion reared its head, as NightShade's optics risked a glance at the sweep. His behavior had become a-typical of his kind.  
  
*  
  
~Return him to me!~ Unicrom's order rode in on another wave of nerve-rending fire. Mara railed against the Dark God.  
~Never!~ she countered though gritted teeth. She was damned, but that was by her own choice. She refused to see another enslaved against his own will!  
Their wills locked in battle, the Bloated God, and the infidel slave. The stake she gambled upon was not her own soul, but that of an innocent's, this gave her the fortitude she never suspected herself of having. Unicrom would have to kill her before she would give in. She could feel herself slipping under, being washed away by his acid onslaught as it scoured every nerve.  
Unicrom angrily relented, withdrawing her battered, but unbroken spirit. He had no desire to destroy his precious slave by quibbling over a useless pile of scrap, like the sweep. ~Do not interfere with me again, Mara, I'm not so forgiving a second time.~ he warned as he faded from her mind.  
  
*  
  
The convulsions eased, leaving Mara frail and worn thin by the ordeal. ThunderCracker helped her to stand, steadying her quavering body with his own as he asked, "are you alright?" Concerned about the greying tone of her hide.  
Mara grimaced though the residue ache, attempting to smile. ~Never been better,~ she lied. What a stupid question to be asked after being given the package tour of hell, she thought. Still, ThunderCracker seemed to care, and that was a rare experience for her.  
  
***  



	5. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 5)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 7)  
Planet fall. Mara watched from the co-pilot's chair. Charr loomed towards them like a mass of scar tissue being magnified as the ship descended. Still, she was home. That thought caught her by surprise. Home? That was a concept she hadn't attached to any place before.  
When the ship landed Cyclonus boarded accompanied by a pair of sweeps, their weapons drawn. Cyclonus was surprises to see ThunderCracker, saying "you function!" He had seen the sweep fall and had assumed him off-line by now. No matter, Cyclonus turned to Mara. "Come," he ordered, "Galvatron is waiting for you."  
Mara rose obediently. Seeing that ThunderCracker intended to go with her, she shook her head, telling him, ~stay and help unload the cargo. I'll be fine.~ ThunderCracker sat back down acceding to her request.  
Escorted to Galvatron's chambers, Mara felt nervousness in her. The sweeps, still had their weapons at the ready, and they reminded her of the times that her uncle would embrace her by having her drug back like this every time she ran away. As they came though the entrance, Galvatron met them halfway, wordless in his livid rage, he slapped her roughly with the back of his hand.  
This was the kind of treatment she was used to. She didn't fight back, rather allowed herself to crumple under the weight of the blow. It was a ploy in emphasis of the pretence of power he held over her, to admit she was weaker than he was. Considering the circumstances, she guessed that Cyclonus had told Galvatron of her disobedience to him.  
~I apologize, Lord. I only engaged the enemy to ensure our mission.~ She projected in her defense, keeping her optics averted to the floor. She was preparing herself for more abuse.  
"Do you deny attacking a comrade? Of slagging him?" Galvatron demanded.  
~The sweep would have denied me the pleasure of making my own kill. I have already made amends by restoring the Sweep to peak function.~  
Galvatron turned to Cyclonus, angered at missing this vital piece of information, "is this true?" he asked.  
"It is, the sweep was fully operational and with her when I fetched her for you." Cyclonus replied, feeling the scorn of his leader.  
Galvatron scowled at his second. "Leave me!" It was unlike Cyclonus to behave like this, to withhold information. Galvatron was disappointed with his second. Cyclonus bowed his head, saying, "as you command, Galvatron."   
Galvatron settled onto his throne, reminding Mara of an eagle, as she allowed her head to rise finally. "Tell me Mara, did you enjoy killing an Autobot?" he asked her, as if none of the violence from earlier had past between them.  
~I did not have a chance to kill the Autobot, Lord. The transport had broken free and the sweep needed immediate attention. I wasn't about to disobey orders for no reason.~ Mara replied. Not telling him that there was something more.  
"No matter," Galvatron said dismissing the topic. "You, give me an assessment of the supplies acquired."  
~We did not achieve the goal,~ Mara projected flatly, ~only a third of what was needed was gained.~ She lowered her head in apology. Galvatron listened thoughtfully. Her response matched Cyclonus' almost word for word, without excuses or blaming any one person, including herself as a responsible member or the party. A thin smile crossed Galvatron's lips, this creature came close to earning his respect; regretful she was female...  
  
***  
  
(Part 8)  
WhirlBlade, a relatively youthful 'Bot. Tall for his rank, his slight build added the illusion of greater height from a distance. He was sleek and lanky, with dynamic angles and a glossy jetblack hide, this combined with tao-ish green optics, full of mystical humor, gave him the uncanny resemblance of a black cat.  
He lounged back in a conference chair, his crossed legs perched on the tabletop, and his arms rested behind his head. Though any observer would have claimed otherwise, he was anything but relaxed. His chest still ached, and he felt stifled because he was banned from the ecstasy of flight. His usually jovial and lighthearted personality had been dampened, a mere shadow of what he once was, not so long ago.  
Buster also was a shell, eaten out with guilt and worry, longing for the contact of his other self. WhirlBlade casually looked down at his life partner, able to read him as well as he could read himself. He knew that Buster needed reassurance.  
"Hi Buster," the Autobot greeted warmly, a roguish ghost of a smile playing on his mouth. Buster looked up at the robot. WhirlBlade sat up and grimaced. Anxiety branded on Buster's countenance, as he rushed over to the Bot.  
"I'm okay, really!" WhirlBlade protested with a chuckle, "it only hurts when I laugh!"  
Buster gave a wane smile, finding it hard to be amused when he had other things on his mind. WhirlBlade's optics narrowed in resignation, losing the sparkle of laughter. If Buster couldn't enjoy the joke, how could he? Two minds, of one soul, the emotions of one affected the other.  
It was though this link that WhirlBlade comprehended Buster's anger and regret. Soberly, WhirlBlade thought of what Buster had sacrificed for their link. Over the years, despite the Bot's encouragement to the contrary, Buster had estranged himself from the females of his species. Because he couldn't resolve within himself the idea that he could be emotionally connected to the Bot and still have a relationship with a woman.  
Thus depriving himself of a family -- a deeply painful feeling of lack held in the deepest recesses of his heart. This concept had twisted itself, anchoring him with guilt over Mara's death. The acute awareness that Sarai could never have any other children made it all the more poignant. WhirlBlade was responsible by circumstance, Buster by association.  
"Why don't you talk to Sarai?" WhirlBlade prompted.  
"Why don't you!?" Buster snapped, defensively.  
"I'm secure with what happened. I know I did my best for the girl. It is you who seek reconciliation." WhirlBlade said calmly.  
Buster struggled with himself, "I ... can't."  
"You mean you won't."  
"No! I can't!"  
WhirlBlade frowned, Buster reminded him of a skittish petro-rabit -- wanting the offered energon treat, but fearing the hand that held it. He said, "Reality isn't as harsh as your imagination. If you never tell Sarai, you will always feel her anger."  
"Don't you think I know that?"  
"It's not really a question of knowing as much as it is believing it," WhirlBlade pointed out. Buster fell silent. The Bot continued, "this is a battle only you can win," WhirlBlade's hand came to rest over his healing fuel capacitor, as he continued, "if nothing else, Buster, accept that I support you." The Autobot lapsed into silence himself. Feeling Buster's pain, he had to fight himself to do more to help his other self. Ultimately, if stripped of his burden, it would weaken the tinsel strength of Buster's soul, the soul they shared in life and death. Something that WhirlBlade couldn't afford if it conditioned Buster to be anything less than what he could be.  
  
***  
  
(Part 9)  
Mara gazed at the blistered vista of Charr. The day was glaring and hazy, actually good weather by Charrian standards. She wondered what time it was on Earth. It felt like a lifetime had past between her realities. Refocusing on her home, the ravaged planet, and its inhabitants.  
She had pondered on how to alleviate the desperate situation of her home, her family. In a breath taking moment of revelation, the clouds parted and she had to shield her optics from the brilliance of the sun. The sun -- she realized, solar power. Not land based, the caustic rains would destroy any collectors. Surely orbital ones would work if the energy were broadcast down to capacitors secured in the Decepticon citadel. It would work with her foster-uncle's help. Sure that she could secure Charlie's aid. There was one other detail to cover: And he was approaching now.  
"You asked me come..." ThunderCracker said, as he joined her. Her summons had been cryptic, and had puzzled him exceedingly, but he came. Not out of curiosity, he left that to the 'thinking types,' it was out of his sense of loyalty and debt that he ventured out.  
~Look up,~ she gestured to the sky, as she spoke with him, ~it is tedious, and shameful that we, a proud race, must scroung to just survive. Would it not be better to restore our self-sufficience?~ Mara asked, injecting his subconscious with possibilities, carving a web with which his intuition could connect the clues.  
His optics widened as he sky-gazed, he grasped the concept in the context she had played upon. "Solar collectors! It could end the dishonor..." He paused, turning to her. Her optics were still aimed heavenward.  
~Surely Galvatron would reward such perception from a warrior.~  
ThunderCracker studied Mara in disbelief. Not only had she had freed him of the Dark Gourger, but was now handing him a powerful leverage that would aid him in the political in-fighting of the Decepticon hierarchy. He didn't want to take this precious gift from her, it could only be used once. He was satisfied with his freedom. "Galvatron should hear of this," he agreed, giving her a chance to reclaim the idea as her own.  
~Hurry, ThunderCracker. Go tell him! There is no time like the present.~ She reaffirmed the gift as his, refusing to take it back. She had, in a way birthed him anew, and felt maternal towards the sweep. She knew she couldn't protect him, but she could give him a way to secure himself.  
The reverence ThunderCracker felt for her multiplied ten-fold. "Thank you,' he murmured, embarrassed that he lacked the eloquence to truly express his gratitude.  
~For what?~ She asked, feigning innocence.  
He made no reply, as he left, swearing privately that he would find a way to repay his benefactress. Mara watched him, a smile of satisfaction slipping through her guard.  
  
***  



	6. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 6)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 10)  
Sarai checked her flight straps, patiently waiting for FlameDancer. The female Autobot was returning to Cybertron and Sarai had asked to join her. I just can't stay here anymore, Sarai thought, chafed by her sorrow. A ubiquitous sorrow made unbearably real when Buster had spoken to her. The poor man, how relieved he looked when he found that she didn't blame WhirlBlade for Mara's death.  
Sarai touched her face with her prosthetic hand, sympathizing with her daughter. To be crushed, to have one's humanity wholly ripped form one's self, beyond recognition, without sight or hearing or touch or voice, to depend solely on machines for each life giving breath... Yes, part of her could understand Mara's choice to commit suicide.  
A cold, unforgiving anger burned in her heart. Why didn't her brother, Anthony give Charlie permission to restore Mara? Why did Mara jump into the skirmish in the first place? Of all the people could blame for Mara's death, WhirlBlade would be the last. He had only tried to save the headstrong child from herself, and had paid for it, almost losing his own life. The blast he was shielding her from had knocked him back, accidentally paralyzing the one he strove to protect.  
If the blame were to be placed on anyone's shoulders, let it be mine, Sarai thought. Plaguing herself with the phantoms of regret. If only she had retired when Mara was born... Then who knows what would have happened to Charlie, what atrocities would he have suffered by Decepticon hands in their attempt to enslave mankind?  
This was her Monkey's Paw of anxiety. Where once there was unwavering purpose, now lay a confusion of mind-numbing possibilities which could never happen, but insisted on haunting her anyway. She needed space to sort out her feelings, a chance to breathe again. So, here she was, about to fly away to Cybertron, the farthest place she could get from Earth, and the pain she associated with it.  
Looking out the shuttle window, Sarai watched FlameDancer saying good-bye to each other. Though she couldn't hear the words exchanged, the interaction of the couple said it all. In the weeks she had known FlameDancer, she had seen that she was different, distant with Springer. Sarai put two and two together.  
The farewells said, FlameDancer boarded and sat at the helm. Running through the preflight check, she apologizes for the delay. Pausing as she saw Sarai's expression, she asked, "why do you look so worried? First time in space?"  
"Do you love him?" Sarai asked, unable to figure out how such an enlightened being could be so incongruent.  
The grin vanished. "What do you mean?"  
"Are you attracted to him? Do you want him? Do you love him?" Sarai didn't know how else to explain it.  
"Yes, I -- he's all I have left."  
"Then you've settled?"  
FlameDancer turned away, returning to the checklist. The situation had gotten too intense for her. The truth she had worked so hard to conceal from herself raised its ugly, festered head.  
"You are being unfair to Springer..." Sarai continued.  
"I know," FlameDancer sighed, as the checklist was completed. The computer prepared for launch. The retro-rockets engaged, lurching them forward.  
"What about the one you truly love? How long has e been dead?" Sarai blushed, knowing she had been tactless.  
"He didn't. I did, and he moved on."  
The conversation, the dull thrum of the engines in the background had an edgy feel to it. There was no way to take back what had been said, and Sarai had no clue of how to proceed. FlameDancer took the initiative.  
"How is it that you find a sense of peace easier than I do? Given that we have similar situations."  
Sarai gave a small, bitter laugh, "I don't have peace. I have acceptance, forced upon me by circumstance. Mara and Prowl are dead, and there's nothing I can do about it. That's the reality of my situation."  
"What was Prowl to you anyway?" FlameDancer asked. She had heard odd stories and rumors of the couple, and wanted to understand their strange relationship.  
"Prowl... He knew me for what I was and didn't fear me," Sarai said, alluding to her mutant nature, "I loved him," her voice began to waver, "yet even when he lived there was no in-between place we could meet. He had his world, I had mine." And where was Mara stuck? She wondered.  
"I'm sorry, Sarai," FlameDancer sympathized.  
"Me too.. But don't be. Se la vi, eh?" she said with a brave smile she didn't feel.  
  
*  
  
Springer, shielding his optics with his hand, watched the shuttle shrink into the distance. He had tried to speak with FlameDancer of the strange obsession he felt. The female Decepticon had become a succubus of phantasmagoric dreams, connected to him on a primal level, leaving him in wont.  
Even as FlameDancer left, he had tried. But FlameDancer became ever distant from him emotionally, keeping him at bay. He could not reveal his inner-thoughts to a cold shoulder. So he had let her go, hoping that perhaps he could speak with her later.  
  
***  
  
(Part 11)   
Charlie woke, startled by the icy grip of daggers on his shoulder. Turning over in the dark, a chill ran though him. A pair of luminescent blue eyes stared at him, unblinking. The grip released him. The silence was heavy, all he could hear was his own breathing. The eyes turned away from him. The sudden beep and hum of his computer booting up startled him. His hand darting up to calm his fear constricted chest.  
He felt the weight of his glasses land softly in his lap. He put them on as the eyes backed away from him. They indicated his computer with a dipping motion. Obliging the shade, he moved to sit in front of his computer. The came to life, as the cursor began to scroll across it. "Hello Charlie..." it typed.  
"Who are you?" he asked, turning to look at the twin orbs.  
The cursor blinked as it paused... then resumed typing, "you know me Charlie."  
"Mara?' he asked. It had to be her, but why wasn't she speaking? What had happened to her? How was she controlling his computer?  
"I need your help, Uncle."  
'You know I'd anything for you."  
Mara studied the scrawny man with skepticism. He had betrayed her too often in the past for her to trust that statement, but he was her only hope for the Decepticons. Their declining, stagnate population needed help now! She continued remote typing, "I need plans for a solar collection satellite equipped with an energy broadcaster and a planet side receiving capacitor."  
'Why?" he wasn't expecting such a request. His suspicions rose; what was she involved in?  
"If you really care Charlie, let the question go unasked." the words scrolled across the dark screen, "it was always a prelude to your back-stabbing." Mara's comment cut him to the quick as she had calculated it to. Experience had shown her that if she allowed people to close to her they would derail her. The current issue was too important to her for her to allow that to happen.  
"It'll take a while..."  
"I have all night."  
"Let me --" The light he was reaching for flickered on.  
"Better?"  
"Yes, I -- Ohmigod!" He gaped at Mara. Clearly robotic, more so than her mother ever was. Her eyes -- no, he corrected himself, her optics still glowing. His gaze fell to her chest, and his heart skipped a beat. The purple emblem, on the red plating of her breast, stuck out like a bruise. She was Decepticon. Charlie averted his eyes. Poor Sarai, How would she handle this? "Mara --"  
"What Charlie, shocked by my appearance?" The cursor blinked at him, "don't be. It was inevitable that I would end up like my mother, one way or the other."  
"I could have restored you."  
"But you didn't."  
"Anthony wouldn't let me. He had a court order."  
The screen went blank, and the cursor seemed to blink in frustration, Mara's face twisting in anger. She knew her uncle was heartless, but to be that cruel? "Just give me what I need!" the screen-printed in vivid red.  
Within the hour of tense silence, Charlie handed her the schematics. Wordlessly Mara accepted them and disappeared in a flash. Darkness rushed in to fill the room, the lamp and the computer inert as if what had transpired never took place. He felt cold. How could she be a part of them? The soulless creatures that had killed or destroyed everything that he loved? He faced his bed, and knew it would be a long time before he slept again.  
  
***  
  
  
(Part 12)  
Mara allowed herself a smile of satisfaction, as she watched the assembly of Decepticons. Their morale boosted as Galvatron spoke. Announcing the end of starvation, the end of degradation. A new, viable energy source was theirs now and forever. No more relying on organic slag for life.  
"Loyalty is rewarded!" Galvatron asserted, as he brought forth ThunderCracker. Placing the Sweep in charge of the energon project. Mara withdrew, she had no taste for pomp and ceremony. It was enough to know that the Decepticons had improved her chances for survival, and that ThunderCracker had benefited.  
Meandering away meeting hall, she walked the maze of corridors and within the vaults of her own head. Wondering what her mother would think of her consorting with the children of Baal. Mara held herself. That was something her uncle would have said of her activities. She had never known her mother, except in the context of hellfire and brimstone spewed by Anthony.  
When she was younger, she had accepted Uncle Anthony's words as the absolute truth. Taught to pray to a Human's God, first for the forgiveness of her mother's soul, then later, when her own mutant powers surfaced, for her own salvation. God had turned a deaf ear and a hardened heart to her pleas. Mara's feelings were now mutual.  
What little she knew of her mother was a mountain of information compared to what she knew of her father, which was nothing. For a long time she had clung to a desperate fantasy. Hoping that the nameless, faceless entity that was her father would suddenly burst through the door and rescue her from her uncle's righteous tyranny.  
When her uncle learn of her stupid dream, he had laughed at her. Saying, "I've done more for you than your father ever did. The smartest thing he ever did was to wash his hands of you and Sarai." Devastated, Mara resolved never to deceive herself again. She was on her own, and no one would save her except herself.  
She had set out several times to stand on her own two feet. Only Anthony, and the law didn't see it as such, labeling her a "runaway." Every time she made it to the streets, Charlie and that Autobot -- what was his name, Prong(?)-- would scoop her up. Inevitably dumping her back in the lab of purgatory. The first time this happened ended what little faith she had started to build for them.  
Mara cycled back to her father. If Anthony could lie about her mother, why not her father too? Still, he had abandoned mother and daughter. What could have been prevented if he had just stuck around? Would her mother still be alive? Damn the nameless son of a bitch, she cursed.  
  
***  



	7. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 7)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 13)  
The lab was dark, save for the flicker of a lone candle's flame. An annual ritual for Charlie. One night, on the anniversary of his friend's death, to reminisce, to celebrate, and to grieve. Drinking and seeking communion with the departed.  
"Prowl!" Charlie called out to the darkness waiting beyond the light. Raising his glass in a toast. "Do you remember our song? The one we sang when you allowed yourself to indulge in the energon," Charlie's mood darkened. "Times have changed again, my friend. Our daughter, she's been to death's door, only -" Charlie paused to quaff his wine.  
"Only it seems she's not dead. It's worse Prowl, she's crossed over from the world of flesh to become a Decepticon. If it weren't for that, she truly would be her father's daughter now. Clad in a body of metal, more so than her mother ever was. I don't know how or why she came to be as she is now.  
"Our daughter has fallen on evil times, Prowl. Sarai doesn't know. How could I possibly tell her without breaking what she has left for a heart? Hasn't Sarai been pushed beyond endurance already?" Charlie drank more, his head swimming.  
"Prowl! God, for once, hear me! Please, in whatever afterlife you dwell in; Mara, flesh of your metal, she needs you more than ever. You're the best protection she has from those foul beasts that robbed you and Sarai of your lives."  
Charlie sighed, visions of the past permeated him. ?I remember how you did your best to be there for our daughter. Even after you chose your world over Sarai's, you never completely abandoned Mara.  
"I can't count how many times we had to save Mara's impulsive fat from the fire when she ran away from home." Charlie scowled, "or how many times we were forced to return her to that bastard, Anthony Benedict. Why would he insist on her return if he hated her so much?"  
"I could no more change my nature of being a mutant, than you could of being a transformer... Well you I could have changed your fate, if you'd have let me, you bastard. But no. What did you liken your time of flesh to? Unbearable frailty?  
"It was when we first mourned the passing of Sarai that you confided in me of Mara's parentage. How incredulous: the idea that you father a child born of flesh and blood. But you had.  
"And you had chosen your heritage, your cause, and your people over a woman who loved you. Who against nature itself, bore your child -- the only child she could ever have. You refused to be swayed by Sarai's plea.  
"Yet you knew, if nothing else, that Mara deserved a father, in the real sense. That night, in your stupor, you put forth a request that changed my life forever. You asked me to be Mara's surrogate father. How could I refuse you, my friend? Mara was all I had left of Sarai. I loved our daughter as my own.  
"Together we might have raised the girl with a sense of self-worth, the ability to forgive the losses of her life. If the law, and Sarai's brother hadn't become a part of the equation."  
Charlie sighed, frowning thoughtfully, "there are a lot of 'only ifs' in life that relegate themselves to 'never can be's.' The 'ifs' that actually become reality are the odd ones, which make no sense at all.  
"If Sarai hadn't died, our deepest secrets of her would never have seen the light. Nor would we be comrades in this sorrow."  
  
***  
  
  
(Part 14)  
Cybertron, a landscape of truly magnificent edifices. Their synthetic nature reflecting the aloof beauty of the souls of their creators, their people. The towers, scaled for the natives, were so tall, they swallowed any view of the sky above. Sarai craned her neck to take in the architecture. Spike Witwicky smiled at the awe he saw on Sarai's face. He had volunteered to give her a guided tour. FlameDancer had other things that needed to be attended to.  
"This world has no native organic life?" Sarai asked, facing her host. Spike had changed from the peer he once was, to the forty-three years old man now standing before her. A man, who like his younger brother, was bonded for life with a machine. He didn't look as old as he was, his aging slowed to a near stop when he merged with Fortress Maximus.  
"This planet is completely artificial. It was constructed as a factory to manufacture the Transformers as slaves for the Quintessons," Spike explained, "the Transformers rebelled and freed themselves, winning Cybertron for themselves."  
"But why is there air?"  
"Cybertron doubled as a market place, humanoids from all over the galaxy would come to purchase the robots before they started a civil war. The air generators were never disassembled."  
"Oh," Sarai said, as she turned back to the architecture. The melancholy cloud of loss veiling her eyes. Was this exotic world why Prowl left her? This symmetry of perfect, orderly angles that defied the chaos of organic nature.  
  
***  
  
(Part 15)  
Since her return, FlameDancer had forced herself to face her feelings, or rather they refused to be ignored any longer. Life had forced her apart from Rodimus Prime. Hadn't he tried to tell her as much? She asked herself, reliving all the little ways he had rejected her love.  
She needed to heal this ghost that haunted her psyche, to cauterize these festered emotions. Her fuel pump cried out for solace. "Vector Sigma, give me strength," she prayed. There were amends to be made. Stanching herself, to face the one she dreaded most, the one she still loved.  
"Rodimus, I'm going back to Earth. I don't know when I'll be back." FlameDancer initiated the conversation by shear force of will.  
"Why? You just got back."  
"To study," her reply was hesitant.  
"Didn't you -"  
FlameDancer's hand shot up, a barrier between them. She said, "you know I still love you." Rodimus grew uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was headed. She continued, some how finding a reservoir of strength. "You've moved on since my death and reincarnation. I've finally allowed myself to accept this. It's time I started moving on myself."  
This confrontation wasn't what he'd expected, and relief flooded through him as he realized what she was telling him. He said, "good luck FlameDancer, I hope you find true happiness."  
FlameDancer gave a wane smile through her malaise, "thank you Rodimus, for everything." A silent, awkward farewell passed between them before she left him.  
  
***  
  
(Part 16)  
Sarai spent her first night on Cybertron laying sleepless, staring at the ceiling. Wondering what her life might have been like had Prowl chosen to stay human. Would he and their daughter still be alive? These were questions that had no answer. Quietly, she cried. Something she had rarely done, now happened with alarming frequency.  
She had paid a terrible price to protect humankind. Mara, the last child she would ever bare, the only link she had to Prowl was gone forever. Sarai's 'humanity' was a facade. What was her way of dealing with her loss? It was to run to the vary place that had spawned her misery. Prowl's home, Cybertron.  
  
***  
  
(Part 17)  
The Decepticons had secured the equipment necessary to build the orbital solar collectors. A first step had been taken in self-sufficiency, of self-respect. The satellites would be on-line in a matter of days.  
Having time on her hands, Mara found herself introspecting about the ways she had changed since her arrival on Charr. She was different, not just in body, but in spirit too. She remembered her confrontation with Unicrom, shivering at the torture she had experienced. It had been the first time she had cared for someone other than herself. The first time her reasons to fight weren't selfish and petty.  
ThunderCracker, and his fellow Decepticons were reminiscent of Mutants on Earth. Mara felt at home with these people. They were all displaced, rejected by mainstream society and the Gods that had created them. The Decepticons were the family she needed to survive. If her welfare counted on them, she would do all in her power to protect them.  
The Autobots would most likely try to stifle her people, to take away their hard-earned return to power. Mara knew in her heart that the Decepticons had to have some sort shield from the Autobots, a smokescreen if they were to rebuild enough to even survive.  
A dust storm began to rage in the distance, almost as if Charr were sympathetic to her needs. She thought of the mutants, the people of her birth, and the seeds of an idea began to germinate. The Autobots claimed to value life. The idea had to be structured carefully, or it might back fire, since the Autobots had an aversion to slavery. If done right, the Autobots would, by their own conscience, be forced to stay away.  
Both her cherished people would benefit....  
***  
  
(Part 18)  
~Lord?~ Mara inquired, politely waiting for Galvatron's acknowledgement, just outside of his chamber entrance. He gestured for her to come closer. She obliged him, as she said, ~Lord, I beg the honor of expanding upon your wisdom.~ She knelt before him, her gentle hands lightly touching his foot.  
Galvatron's face contorted with a surge of surprise and odd, conflicting emotions. No female had dared to be so forward with him. The urge to kick her away waged war with the awareness of how sensual those talons could be. Masking his conflict, he said, "speak."  
Mara's hands trembled slightly, as she projected, ~Lord, the Decepticons are a great and noble people. Why must we dredge like common laborers? Is it not our right to simply be warriors?~  
"Of course," Galvatron said, taking the bate, "it is for lesser races to toil for us." Mara amazed herself sometimes in her ability to second guess this man.  
~Truly, this is what we deserve,~ she paused. Letting him internalized the idea as his own. Now came the tricky part. She continued, ~We have been cut in number, and besieged to the point of starvation.~  
"The Autobots keep us as such," he commented, as he leaned forward, giving in to his desire for her intimacy.  
~Don't the Autobots have a professed weakness for humans?~  
Galvatron actualized the idea Mara hinted at, saying, "a buffer would keep the enemy at bay."  
Mara felt that now was the time to help Galvatron to fully cognize the plan. ~What of there abhorrence of slavery?~ She asked.  
"Indeed," Galvatron said, pausing in thought. He knew that Mara was manipulating him. He didn't mind, as long as she remembered her place. Certainly this creature had imagination and cunning. He smiled, concluding his thought, "not if the labor force seemed willing."  
~Let me serve you in this capacity.~  
Galvatron gave permission with a complying gesture. Mara couldn't help the pleasant smile that graced her lips. ~Thank you,~ she projected, as she retracted herself from him with a brush of her fingertips. Rising, she left him in solitude.  
Alone, the mask of contained emotion slipped from his face. Galvatron never remembered being so aware of his tactile senses as when Mara had touched him. It excited him to know the tenderness of those metal-rending hands.  
Yet revulsion raged at her impunity, at the strange desire wrenching at his fuel capacitors. Galvatron clutched his fist tightly in frustration. Mara knew her place, did he forget his? Lightning, fire danced and boiled within him. Would she touch him again? Ecstasy burned his exacerbated senses and he tingled with anticipation.  
  
***  
  
  
(Part 19)  
Mara managed to shut out her thoughts of Galvatron out of her head long enough to plot out the finer details of her plan. It was a plot fitting for a mad scientist. Speaking of which, she needed Charlie's help, hopefully for the last time.  
She teleported to Earth, to put her plan into action, she needed to contact one other person while she waited for a chance to talk with Charlie. She needed to see Marcus Benedict first.  
  
*  
  
Marcus, the eldest son of Anthony William Benedict, was also his father's single greatest disappointment. Born of two human parents, he too should have been human. Instead, according to Anthony, Marcus had the gall to take after his aunt. His father lied, to hide a deeper shame. Marcus' mutant ability to discern the truth of the spoken word has seen through Anthony's statement. Even if Marcus hadn't had the sense to know his father for who he was.  
Marcus and Mara had learned to take solace in each other against the cold and heartless world. Often they would speak of having a place free of the bigotry they suffered, a haven for mutant kind. It was a dream that died with Mara.  
When Anthony let Mara suffer rather than allow Doctor Reagan operate on her, and later when a look of relief passed over his face when he got word of Mara's suicide. That was when Marcus fully realized that his father's righteous pity and indignation was a thin veil for the fear and hatred he had for his children. Disgusted with his father, Marcus couldn't decide if he hated him, or pitied him more.  
Marcus looked about, making sure the coast was clear. Turning back to the cherry of a Corvette convertible in front of him, he couldn't resist the urge to take a joy ride. With one hand he vaulted himself into the driver's seat. The car was begging to be stolen, with its hood down and no security device to speak of.  
"Hello baby," he quoted, as he reached below the dash to hot-wire the car. Revving it up, he placed it in first gear and eased it into the street. This was one sweet car, almost driving itself, it was so responsive. Marcus put his earphones on. With Metallica blaring in his ears, and a breeze mussing his hair, he shifted into second.  
The music cut out in mid-song, and a familiar voice spoke to him, "hello Mark. Still the same juvenile delinquent?"  
"Mara?!" Marcus exclaimed, jerking the steering wheel with surprise. The car, unaffected by his reaction, drove on, shifting itself into third gear.  
"Where are you?" he demanded, one hand reaching for the earphones.  
"Wait," Mara said urgently, "don't remove them." Marcus hesitated, and put his hand down. Mara continued, "I'm the car Mark."  
"You're dead, and I'm hallucinating!" he exclaimed.  
"Neither," she stated, heading for the freeway, "I'm alive and real."  
Getting over the initial shock, Marcus laughed, "great, my cousin, the car. Sounds like a show title." Looking up, he asked, "where are we going?"  
"Just for a drive," her voice toned with amusement.  
"What happened to you?" he asked, "they claim you committed suicide."  
"I'd rather not talk about that right now."  
"Yeah, whatever," Marcus frowned. It was the same old Mara, keeping her pain private, as usual.  
"Is it still the same at home?"  
"Yes. Only worse now that the old man doesn't have to split his focus."  
"I figured."  
"Then why did you ask ... really?"  
Mara gave a tense laugh, saying, "you could always see through me."  
"True," Marcus smiled at the car, as he rested his head back, on his arms.  
"Would you like to build a world, Mark? One free of humans, and there prejudices?"  
"Sure. But what's the catch?"  
Mara laughed again, then sobered, saying, "when I say 'build' that's exactly what I mean. I found a planet. It's barren and hostile. It would take a lot of work to make it capable of sustaining life, but it can be done. We mutants can finally have a world of our own."  
"You're only telling me half the story, Mara."  
"That's the only part you need."  
"Oh please, cuz, be merciless, and give me all the facts."  
Mara paused for a long time, then summed it up with one word, "Decepticons..."  
Marcus was silent, then as the tension grew tight, his dry-wit surfaced, "you're trying to kill me with guile, huh? Oh-ack, I think it's working." He was suddenly serious, "the Decepticons don't win popularity contests with their charm and mercy, cuz. What makes you think we'd be safe living under their noses?"  
"I have my ways..."  
"I'm sure you do. It's just like you to somehow scrabble to the winner's circle through hell and high water. Alright," he sighed, "I'm game. What's the plan?"  
Mara explained her idea, and the role she needed him to play.  
  
*  
  
After the shock of Mara's return from the grave subsided, Marcus listened to what his cousin had to say, and his heart embraced the hope she offered. To be free of his father, and tyrants like him. This was something even he could support. He was packing the last of his stuff in a duffel bag when his bedroom door opened.  
"What are you doing?" Anthony asked.  
"Leaving..."  
"I wouldn't if I were you," his father warned.  
Marcus defiantly met his father's glare with his own, as he replied, "you would if you had to deal with you." Before he could react, Anthony backhanded his insolent son. Marcus backed out of his reach, pulling the duffel with him and whipping the spittle from his mouth. "See what I mean, father?" Marcus asked sarcastically.  
"I'll have you returned to me if you go!"  
"I'm sure you'll try."  
The stereo speakers in the room squelched, as if receiving feed-back and an unearthly, metallic laughter filled the room, as the ceiling light flickered and dimmed to nothingness. The air began to tingle. A chill ran down Anthony's spine as he gaped with terror.  
The demonic visage of his deceased niece stood before him, burning in an aura of cold blue flame, the pale light a livid contrast with her blood-dipped skin. Her hand silently clasped Marcus to her, as her pupilless eyes came to focus on him. The glowing glare pierced straight through to his heart from underneath a crown of horns and metal, it was a silent accusation that branded the man's soul.  
Mara's hair whipped about her, as if in a tempest, despite the heavy stillness of the air around them. The room exploded with an overload of light and sound, shorting out everything electrical. Anthony, alone, fell heavily to his knees. His heart pounding loudly in the blackness. Sirens could be heard in the distance. "God, preserve me," he whispered, burying his face in his hands.  
  
***  



	8. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 8)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 20)  
Mara had tackled the personnel part, now it was time to acquire the equipment... She waited to optimize her chances of catching Charlie alone. She still smiled at the small piece of revenge she had extracted from her uncle. IT was most effective, considering Anthony's religious convictions.  
  
*  
  
Charlie was closing down his lab, as he reached to shut off the lights, he heard his computer boot back up. Spinning around, he saw the screen print out, "hello Charlie..."  
"Mara?" Charlie asked, looking around. He spotted her lurking in a corner like a timid child.  
"Will you help me once more?" the screen wrote.  
"Anything to return you to us safely," he nodded.  
It was Charlie's emphasis on 'us' that gave Mara pause. "Us?" she asked.  
"Your mother and I."  
"She's dead Charlie. Why are you speaking of her in present tense?"  
"She'll be here soon."  
"She is DEAD! We both know that!" Mara's fingers reflexively curled into fists. What kind of cruel mind game was Charlie playing?  
"The body was never found --"  
"Megatron atomized her. Or are you insinuating that she was alive the whole time?" Mara felt her heart paralyze. Please, let it not be the latter -- that was too bitter a pill to swallow.  
"Neither, Mara," Charlie said, coming closer to her, "I managed to bring her back, finally."  
Mara stared at him, hope warring with disbelief. It wasn't something beyond his capabilities, given time ... Time -- He must have breached the temporal barrier. A strange sense of fear and futility strickened her. This truth, when put into focus meant that she had wasted her life for naught. Revenge, the reason she had to live, shrank to a moot point! She wasn't ready to deal with this.  
"What does she know?" The screen's cursor blinked in turmoil.  
"She still thinks you've committed suicide, I haven't told her different yet," Charlie admitted.  
"Tell her nothing, for her sake." Mara was ashamed of her life, of the fact that she was a slave. Afraid that her mother would condemn her for choosing the Decepticon way of life. She had to have a chance to figure out this newfound confusion before she could face the stranger so intimately connected to her.  
Shifting to the subject she was prepared, she wrote, "Charlie, I left a file detailing what I need from you. I'll be back in three days to retrieve it...? She disappeared before Charlie could say anything.  
  
***  
  
(Part 21)  
Sarai spent her last night on Cybertron listlessly wandering the empty streets of the city. She could feel Prowl everywhere, as she communed with his ghost, a meeting of memory with the present. She could almost hear his voice, speaking of the good times, and the bad. Of the beautiful connection they had in Mara. A connection that should have lasted beyond Sarai's lifetime.  
"I can't be there for you," Prowl had told her that night, "not like you want, or deserve." The night she had asked him to stay with her. The bitterness of his rejection stung for months, before she realized that he hadn't rejected her, but had released her because he loved her.  
How ironic that the vary thing she loved about him was what ultimately tore them asunder. In the end, she was grateful. He had given her Mara, and had brought out a side of herself that she liked. It was his love that had helped her to forgive the Transformers for the death of her foster-father; She had never thanked Prowl for the role he played in her healing.  
"Peace be with you, Prowl, beloved, surely we've earned that much." She whispered her farewell to him.  
  
***  
  
(Part 22)  
Mara found a reclusive corner of the storage bay to cache the exo-suits she had stolen from the Autobots. She locked away the experience of finding out her mother lived after all, afraid that she might cry. "No," she thought, stanching her harrowed spirit, "there are more important things on the agenda than bawling."  
She mentally checked off what she had to get for a workable colony on Charr. Water; could be harvested from nearby asteroids. Food; grown in hydroponic gardens. Living space; she and Mark had agreed to on an underground complex spoking from the citadel. This was maddening, she couldn't concentrate properly.  
  
*  
  
Mara came as bidden by Galvatron. As she entered, she saw that his face was calm, set in stone. She knelt before him; aware of the way he scrutinized her. She averted her optics and waited as the long moment stretched, to finally dissolve. He asked, "how does your project go?"  
~It goes well, Lord. I have made contact with a group who are willing to come, and have seen to their basic needs here on Charr. It will be only a matter of days before the first lot arives,~ she stopped, as she felt his presence draw near to her. His hand carefully brushing her hair aside.  
Mara trembled at his touch. 'Fear?' Galvatron wondered, 'anticipation?' He guided her face up with his fingers. Their optics met. "These humans, they are your responsibility. Do with them as you will," he told her, "just don't let them get under foot."  
She came close, and the brief contact between their lips startled him. She quickly retreated, projecting her thanks. Fearing that she had overstepped her bounds. She stood, backing into Cyclonus as she was about to excuse herself.  
"Stay," Galvatron commanded her as he rose.  
  
*  
  
Cyclonus had watched the two, and was disgusted by Galvatron's hypocrisy. Mara had begun to prove herself trustworthy, but NightShade's warning founded his biasness. He wasn't at all ashamed to bust up their little party.  
He made his scheduled report to Galvatron, still in the process of restoring his leader's faith in him. The solar collectors were on line. It would take only a day to replenish their dwindling supplies. Finished with the report, Cyclonus left, continuing in his task of Major Domo.  
  
*  
  
Left to themselves again, Galvatron faced Mara. His mouth still holding the vividness of their contact. "What was that?" he demanded, not sure what to make of it. Mara blanched, her hide turning a shade lighter.  
~I'm sorry. Please forgive my audacious show of gratitude.~  
"That was not gratitude! It was an emulation of something else, human," he said, "but of what?"  
~My -- emotions, Lord.~  
"Enough!" Galvatron interrupted her with a flick of his hand, "no more apologies. Leave me."  
~As you command,~ Mara bowed, relieved to be let off of the hook. Galvatron waited until she was gone before returning to his throne. His fingers touching his tingled lips. The world had changed subtly for him. It could no longer be ignorantly categorize in black and white. What power she had to blur his simple, sharp vista of concepts.  
  
***  
  
(Part 23)  
Springer frowned at the gravity of this turn of events, as he watched the re-play of the video broadcast. A human male, verging on maturity, wearing an exo-suit with a Decepticon emblem blazed on his right shoulder and left breast was standing in front of a large, stylized Decepticon banner. He began speaking.  
"Nations of Earth and Cybertron, we of Charr declare ourselves a sovereign nation, with all inherent rights." He paused for his words to impact, then continued, "as a representative of the Charrnese government, I extend an olive branch of peace and invite other nations to join in opening diplomatic channels." He smiled, "Let us in brotherly understanding, find ways to mutually benefit each other." The Broadcast ended.  
"God above," Sarai cursed, as she shut off the view screen, "how did he get involved with the Decepticons?"  
"Do you know him?" FlameDancer asked.  
"He's my nephew, Marcus," Sarai explained, "my brother met me yesterday, telling me his son was kidnapped by Mara..." Sarai spoke vehemently, "he thought it was my responsibility to rescue his son." She trailed off in thought. She remembered accusing Anthony of neglect and that Marcus had probably just ran away. She couldn't forgive her brother's sordid tale, but after seeing this broadcast. She was forced to consider the possibility that hew nephew was in trouble, much like Charlie had been twenty years ago.  
Thinking of Charlie, Sarai looked at him. He seemed sick, shaking his head and swallowing bile. Trying to deny something he felt. Poor man. "Charlie," she asked, "are you alright?"  
"Nothing... I -- It's just the whole day," Charlie stammered, praying she would leave it at that.  
Sarai grunted an agreement, as she turned to Springer, asking, "what are the Autobots going to do?"  
"First we'll want to make sure this isn't slavery," he said, "I sure hope this isn't legitimate, or it'll complicate things."  
  
***  
  
(Part 24)  
  
FlameDancer pulled the cowl of the cloak over her head. The soft, smoky-blue cloth fell to partially conceal her face. The mosaic of golden orange and pale yellow on her arms shifted and flickered with a life of its own as she wrapped the cloak tightly around her slender frame. She entered the sacred labyrinth.  
The maze leading to the heart of Cybertron was a dizzying number of twists and turns. She knew her destination, but how she would get there would always be a mystery to her. This infinity would take her to the Chthonic God, Vector Sigma.  
The nameless Guardian appeared. FlameDancer bowed low before the quasi-organic being, saying, "I have come..." The Guardian's blood red optics flashed as it nodded in acknowledgment. Raising an emaciated hand, it gestured for her to follow. Leading in a vapor of robes, in to the depth of their world, to the face of God.  
Overwhelmed by the power emanating from Vector Sigma, FlameDancer prostrated herself. Afraid to look directly at the awe-inspiring sphere of light. "Lord!" She beseeched her Creator, "hear me!"  
"Rise child." A pervasive sense of peace enveloped her. "Fear not, you whom I have made." She wasn't sure if she heard words or simply understood meanings. It was hard to describe the sensation of their dialogue.  
"I am concerned. Our sworn enemy, the Decepticons have enslaved humans."  
"The Decepticons are not my enemy. They also are my children. I am aware of their actions. They only want to return home, to me. Be at ease, my daughter, make no hasty judgements. I will guide it though."  
FlameDancer turned to see the exit loom in front of her. The half-day spent in the bowels of Cybertron already a haze.  
  
***  
  
(Part 25)  
  
Ravage's low, metallic growl drew Mara's attention to Marcus. In his late teens, there was nothing noteworthy or remarkable about him. Average looking, and easily forgotten. Until one got to know the person inside. Mark was sharp-witted, and his ability of discerning truth in the spoken word gave him an edge.  
"Hey," he radioed, as he warily approached the pair, "call off Rabies." Ravage, like most Decepticons disliked humans of any type. Marcus, being a mutant, was no exception. Mara placed a calming touch on the black cat's head, quieting him.  
~How's it going?~ She asked. As he drew nearer he had to look up to meet her gaze. His six foot height was severely dwarfed four or five times by her. The question came though his exo-suit's com-link.  
"The usual. You know, the kindness of neighbors," he said, nodding towards Ravage. The cat hissed. Marcus backed off a step, as he said, "we could use a hand."  
~You need only ask,~ she smiled as she stood up.  
His wry smile beamed from behind the helmet's faceplate, as he asked dryly, "didn't I?" His humor shining though for the first time in weeks. Mara was glad he retained something of his youth. The restoration was a backbreaking labor of love that would see fruition in his lifetime.  
  
*  
  
From his vantagepoint, Galvatron watched the motley trio approach. A smelting pot of emotions simmered under his composed exterior. Contempt for Marcus Benedict; he was human, the galactic equivalent of a cockroach, and kept here only by necessity. Hatred (Galvatron wouldn't admit fear) of the fleshling's uncanny abilities. Envy -- why was it that this human had such easy access to Mara's smile. She showed an aspect of herself to Marcus that Galvatron was denied. A part he hungered to know personally.  
Mara. What was it about her that crept under his alloy hide? She was due to give a progress report on the Charrnese (as the humans insisted on calling themselves). Would she prostrate herself to him again? Probably. Would she touch him again? A shiver of anticipation ran through him. It was a dangerous game they played. Almost every value he held had been challenged or compromised in some way. Yet the easy solution to the problem wouldn't give him what he wanted -- her.  
  
***  
  
(Part 26)  
  
~My Lord, all goes well with the Charrnese. The underground living units are almost complete.~ Mara said, bowing to Galvatron, ~the Autobots have acknowledged our message, and are preparing to welcome us.~ She sensed him circling her like prey.  
"What Charrnese goes with you to Earth?" he asked, as his fingers touched her shoulder possessively. She trembled at the electric contact he made with her. The duality of her growing attraction for him waged war with her distrust.  
~Lourdes Maria Maza. Her familiarity with diplomacy makes her perfect for this task.~ Mara remained vigilant in her address to the Decepticon leader. He was of the old school, where females were meaningless. Even though she and NightShade had proven those attitudes outdated, the seeds of change seemed to grow in dubious ground.  
"Excellent," Galvatron murmured. It wasn't Marcus to be traveling in her company.  
  
***  



	9. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 9)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 27)  
  
ThunderCracker shielded his optics to look at the shuttle they were about to board. "I don't see why we have to play this game," he growled to Mara. She didn't bother to respond.  
"Patience," the human female said, "decorum is the name of the game. Let them bind their own hands with bureaucracy." ThunderCracker glared at the human. This pathetic thing, so below his notice dared to speak to him? Oh, the temptation to step on this insect...  
Mara's optics flashed with warning. The thin leash of ThunderCracker's loyalty held him in check. Humans did prove useful in the capacity they were here for, but why did Mara treat them so equitably?  
Mara turned back to the shuttle. Pity, that so many Decepticons had the straightforward stupidity of a school yard bully. They had dominated this way for more millennia than she could count on her hands, but they had started out with a power base.  
Autobots had survived by being frugal with their energon supplies, and by building bridges with other races instead of burning them. That was what had allowed them to come out on top, picking off Decepticons like scavengers. No more.  
The Decepticons would thrive again. Mara would lay the groundwork for a new Dynasty, with her remains if need be. If the Decepticons could develop a fortitude of spirit to match their physical strength, they could reclaim their birthright.  
  
*  
  
Maza felt ill. She got air sick, and space travel didn't help. The seat restraints offered little comfort. "Mother Mary preserve me," she whispered. Mara glanced at her small, Hispanic companion.  
"You don't have the balls for this?" Mara asked Lourdes through the com-link.  
"Your mother!" Maza quipped back, managing a wane smile.  
"And yours," Mara returned in good humor. "It looks like it'll be less than an hour before our feet touch solid ground." Studying ThunderCracker's navigational readouts.  
"Thank the Lord," Maza whispered, straining to keep the nausea to a minimum.  
Mara focused on ThunderCracker. His brooding silence was unnerving and his anxiety contagious. The Sweep had his reservations and Mara could empathize. They were walking into a lions' den. Hopefully, luck would be on their side.  
  
***  
  
(Part 28)  
  
The Decepticon shuttle landed just outside of Metroplex. Springer and WhirlBlade waited warily. As the ship's thrusters disengaged, an eerie quiet settled over the field. Metroplex was on yellow alert, ready for a worse case scenario.  
The shuttle door hissed, the magnetic seals releasing, as it opened to form a rampart. A Sweep stepped into the light of day, his blue hide shining with a high gloss. He was tense, as he surveyed the area for potential threats. The next one to emerge left the two Autobots gapping.  
WhirlBlade saw an image of Sarai, as she might have been as a Transformer. The Dark Angel would leave a path of change in her wake. Their optics met momentarily. He knew who she was. His chest hurt with the vivid memory. What monster had he unwittingly unleashed on the world? He shuttered to think.  
The third member of the party, the Charrnese diplomat came between the Decepticons, like a bird between two mountains. The Latin woman addressed Springer. Her voice holding sway over the group. She seemed larger than life, as her mutant ability of projection made her the center of reality.  
"Thank you for coming, Madam Maza," Springer said, formally, "as the representative of Cybertron, I welcome you.. This is WhirlBlade," he indicated the black whipcord of an Autobot beside him, "he will show you to your quarters where you can rest and refresh yourself before our first meeting."  
Maza nodded her thanks to Springer as she left with WhirlBlade. The two Decepticons were following, when Springer touched Mara's arm, drawing her attention. ThunderCracker whirled around to defend Mara, but backed off under her gaze and a silent reassurance on her part. Mara was left alone with Springer.  
One question begged to be asked, the one that had haunted him since they first met. "When we fought, you could have killed me. Why didn't you?" Springer asked, trusting his instinct that she would tell him the truth.   
She looked at him, as if weighing the worthiness of his soul. Her hand, once the claw that had rent his metal hide, now rested gently on his chest. ~How could I strike down myself?~ she asked in reply. His hand lifted to cover her's. It was a moment that should have lasted for a lifetime.  
  
***  
  
(Part 29)  
Sarai wept. This Decepticon, her daughter? She stared through Charlie with tear-burned eyes. Her daughter just another murdering beast? One of the bastards that killed her foster father, her beloved, even herself? Her life was turning into a black comedy.  
When Sarai had seen Mara emerge from the ship, it was like looking at a mirror image of herself. The sight of the Decepticon insignia on her breast was like a knife goring her heart. Charlie's soothing words were blurred and distant at the moment.  
Charlie, at a loss, not knowing rather to comfort her or let her be, instinctively picked up a hand held computer.  
  
*  
  
"Again, thank you for coming," Springer said.  
"It is my pleasure," Lourdes replied, then dropped the ball in mid-stride, curious to see what the Autobot would do with it.  
"We need proof of --"  
"Slavery?" Lourdes asked. "I assure you, there is none. We Charrnese only want to live free of persecution."  
"What do you mean?" Springer was off-centered by that comment.  
"We Charrnese, Homo Sapient Superiors, or mutants if you prefer, have chosen to peacefully withdraw from earth, to build our own world rather than struggle pointlessly with humans over what is theirs." The words echoed Mara's earlier assertion.  
"But with Decepticons?" Springer asked, incredulously, "they'll kill you or keep you in bondage."  
"You see no collar about my neck," Lourdes replied coolly, "we come and go freely, as we please. As for safety, we are safer on Charr than we ever where on Earth.  
"Come now," Lourdes prompted, "let us speak of important matters..."  
  
*  
  
Mara was eavesdropping on the conversation through Lourdes' com-link. Leaning against a wall, when she was interrupted by a voice from her distant past.  
"Mara?" Sarai asked, hardly able to speak to this nightmare her daughter had become. Mara looked down to see her mother, Charlie at her side. He was holding a hand unit, obviously prepared for a confrontation.  
"Mara, what happened? Why did you join these butchers?" Sarai demanded, venting her frustration.  
The female Decepticon felt like she was two years old again, afraid of her mother's rejection. She turned away, unable to face them. Access to the hand-unit was easy, it was choosing her words that was the hard part.   
The computer screen typed in small print, "I didn't want it to be like this." The cursor paused... "You never came home. I went to the only place I could."  
Sarai was stunned into silence, weighed with guilt.  
"Come back to us," Charlie said, "you can--"  
Mara's cold glare struck him with the accusing unasked question, 'why didn't you tell this to my mother?' Her look softened to remorse.  
"I finally found a reason to live. I have a family. Don't take that away from me," the screen pleaded. Sarai stared at Mara. Decepticons a family? She couldn't conceive that band of cutthroats as anything, but the demons that had desolated her life. She had lost everything to these monsters.  
Mara refused to meet Sarai's gaze. It was too much, knowing that she had disappointed her mother. Charlie wrapped a protective arm around Sarai, as he said, "the door will always be open to you, Mara. We still love you."  
She avoided watching them walk away. If only she could seek out the safety they offered. Life just wasn't simple, it wasn't free. She was a slave. Somewhere, beyond hearing, she could feel the echo of Unicrom's laughter, mingled with her mother's tears.  
  
*  
  
Lourdes lounged on the couch in their quarters, giddy with her success. The grown-up disguise was hung up for the day. She wasn't yet nineteen and already she had achieved something her father never would.  
"It went well?" Mara's synthesized voice came though the com-link, as she looked at the mutant. They were almost at eye level with Mara sitting on the floor.  
"Of course! Weren't you listening?"  
Mara smiled bitterly, saying "other things distracted me."  
Lourdes was too elated to notice Mara's mood, as she said, "tomorrow they're giving me a tour of Metroplex before official negotiations begin. Rodimus will meet with me himself."  
Things were on track, more so that Mara had secretly expected. Turning to ThunderCracker, she felt a twinge of sympathy for him. The Sweep was ham-stringed with angst. They were in the heart of the enemies' encampment, and he was unable to act out of ingrained habit.  
~ThunderCracker,~ Mara asked gently, ~would you like to go back to Charr?~  
He shook his head. He'd sooner die than leave Mara alone in the hands of the enemy. She graced him with a smile of gratitude.  
  
***  
  
(Part 30)  
Late at night. Lourdes was asleep, and ThunderCracker was off-line. Mara sneaked out, too restless to be confined any longer.  
"Going somewhere?" Springer asked, surprising her.  
~For a walk,~ Mara answered, shrugging, ~want to join me?~  
"Yes." Springer was glad he didn't have to come up with an excuse to keep an optic on her. "I know where there's a good view of the sunrise. And we'll time it just right if we leave now," he offered gallantly, extending an open hand. She accepted it.  
  
*  
  
~So this is look out point?~ she seemed to whisper, as she took in the vista, ~the stars are beautiful.~  
"Alright, dawn won't come for another hour. Can you ever forgive me?" he asked light heartedly.  
~Of course,~ she replied with equal jest, enjoying herself for the first time in a long while.  
"Why do I feel so intoxicated, yet clear-headed now?" he asked, taking her hand in his. Mara shrugged.  
~Attraction does that to you.~  
"You're closing me out. I take that you don't feel the same way for me?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't risking again for nothing. An image of FlameDancer wavered in front of his optics. He had suffered this strange ambivalence before, and it soured him.  
~On the contrary, Springer. I've -- loved you since we first met.~ Mara wasn't sure if it really was love, never experiencing it before. There was something between them, which comforted her, and terrified her.  
"Will you come back to me?" he asked, feeling her inner turmoil. How she pulled away, trying to sort out the conflict.  
Mara saw a glimpse into her future. Her path of slavery or death rose before her, like a blood moon from Revelations. The circle of fate could only be completed, be broken by her. This path was for her alone to walk. She kissed Springer, a passionate merging of on Self to another.  
~We may meet again, one day,~ she whispered softly to his soul, and was gone. The taste of her lips, saline and honey lingered on his. He had lost her again, perhaps forever. He wasn't sure. Perhaps it was better not to wonder.  
  
***  



	10. Default Chapter Title

Transformers: Fractal Web (section: 10)  
By Waspinatrix (waspinatrix@hotmail.com)  
  
Legalese: Transformers, Autobots, Decepticons, Cybertron, Energon, Vector Sigma, the Matrix, Primus, Metroplex, Springer, Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Galvatron, Cyclonus, Unicron (or Unicrom), Perceptor, Sweeps, StarScream, ThunderCracker, Charr, Prowl, the Arialbots, Spike Witwicky are all property of HasKen and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.   
Buster Witwicky, Mutants (Homo Sapient Superior), and the Mutant Registration Act are properties of Marvel Comics and are used without permission for the express purpose of entertainment without profit.  
Mara Benedict, Sarai Benedict, Anthony Benedict, Marcus Benedict, Charles "Charlie" Reagan, Lourdes Maria Maza, FlameDancer, WhirlBlade and NightShade are copyrighted to me 1992-2000. This story is not to be redistributed in whole or part without my permission. Nor are my characters to be used without my permission. Reviews, questions and critiques are always welcome. Happy bidding, er.. reading. :D  
  
(Part 31)  
ThunderCracker relaxed for the first time in over four days. They were en route to Charr. Mara was unusually somber. The Sweep was concerned, but not knowing how to be nurturing, his mind turned towards avenging her. One of the Autobots must have done this to her. He would kill them.  
~Easy ThunderCracker,~ Mara soothed, looking at him, and resting a hand on his shoulder. She had sensed where his dementia was going. ~No one did this to me, but myself.~ The Sweep didn't know what to make of her statement, she was too alien sometimes for his simplicity.  
  
*  
  
Home. Mara was the first off of the ship. Marcus was waiting for them.  
"How'd it go?" he asked, as his eyes gravitated to Lourdes. Mara smiled, feeling a pang of envy. Young love. That was something that she didn't expect to experience.  
"I'll let Lourdes tell you," she told him, excusing herself to follow the retreating form of ThunderCracker, her arms wrapped around her chest. Marcus worried about his cousin. He thought of calling to her, but she'd ignore him rather than divulge her pain.  
"Why don't you go after her?" Lourdes asked.  
"I can't," Marcus said, as he shivered. For a fleeting moment, he saw the death of a sun. The loss of love. And an end to a journey, one started long before he was born. The rare moment of clairvoyance left him drained, as he said, "she's going to die. Finally the circle will be broken..."  
Lourdes gaped at Marcus, frightened by him. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.  
"I don't know," he replied, shaking his head. The strange vision melted, leaving him drenched with emptiness, and futility. Whatever it was that gripped Mara wasn't finished just yet.  
  
***  
  
(Part 32)  
Galvatron found Mara in the storage bay. She hadn't come to him all day. Other sources had told him of the treaty between the Charrnese and the Autobots, and he had wondered why she hadn't told him herself. The hellcat was curled in a corner. He held out his hand to her, for once he wanted her stand tall in his presence.  
Their optics met, as she grasped his hand --  
One instant, in a tidal wave of pandemonium, he understood, everything.  
She was human, and he had killed her mother. He experienced Mara's death, and resurrection. How she had come to care for the Decepticons. To care for him. She had, in her own way, forgiven him for her mother's death. A battle was being waged on the field of her soul. The vicarious images faded before he could fathom them.  
~Help me,~ she said, placing his hand over her heart, ~love me.~  
They kissed, her lips parted willingly to his. Her finger tips traced lines of longing across his back. The desire to merge with her burned through him, as he lifted her by the waist, pinioning her with one arm to him. His other hand exploring her, inflaming her hunger, her desire.  
Mara quivered. He knew her as no other man did. The passions, once dammed in him, flooded over. Sandwiched between him and the wall, she opened herself to him. They merged in a whirlwind of pleasure, verging on pain. Their desperation assuaged by the heat of the moment.  
He held her to him, a momentary respite from the world. Stroking her hair, as it fell across his shoulder. She took his hand, lightly nipping the fingertips, and kissing the palm. 'He has given a live for a life,' Mara thought, grateful to him, as her hand touched her abdomen, 'he has made us all one.'  
Galvatron would give her Cybertron. His thoughts were shattered under the avalanche of Unicrom's will. Cybertron belonged to Unicrom, and no one else. Galvatron's scream ended in a series of gurgling chokes. His hydraulics tearing themselves apart with intense convulsions. Mara held him down, pleading for Unicrom to stop.  
Unicrom let the Decepticon leader slump, a rag doll, onto Mara's lap. Galvatron would live, barely. Mara wept with relief, and frustration. How could her people recapture their greatness with the sword of Unicrom's whim hung over their heads, suspended by a hair? In that moment of strange fate, Unicrom had made an enemy. The Dark God had over reached, and would lose a hand.  
  
***  
  
(Part 33)  
Mara gazed at the bundle cradled protectively in her arms as she teleported. The abrupt flash of her arrival disrupted the serenity of the night. The breeze was the only thing that moved in the first moments after Mara's appearance. She and Sarai stood facing each other on Lookout Point, a strange twist of mirror and smoke, each the image of the other.  
Sarai held Charlie's hand, not quite knowing what to think of her estranged daughter. A daughter who by her own choice was about to abandon her own daughter. Charlie privately marveled at the two women. They were like twins, about the same age through a deliberate act on his part. Both part machine, Sarai by necessity, Mara by chance. The two were also radically different, the opposite faces of the same coin. Sarai human looking with a light complexion, compared to Mara with her alloy skin of crimson and midnight.  
~Thank you, ...Mother,~ Mara spoke first, through the portable radio that Charlie had brought along, her voice pensive, uneasy. The last time she had spoken with Sarai in any capacity was twenty years ago. She stepped forward, offering the child to Sarai.  
Sarai hesitated. "Are you sure Mara? Do you really want to do this?" she asked her daughter, as she tried to read her face. Mara looked away, her azure optics flashed momentarily, as she steeled her resolve in the face of her mother's doubts, biting her tongue rather than ask Sarai the same stinging question. At least *her* daughter would be with parents who could love her, unlike Mara's childhood.  
~Yes, Sarai,~ Mara said, ~and you are the only ones I can trust her to.~  
Sarai felt the sting of the barrier Mara put between them. She accepted the child.  
"What's her name?" Sarai asked, pulling the blanket aside to look at her granddaughter.  
~I'm leaving that to you,~ Mara seemed to want to say more, but refrained. Sarai locked gazes with her.  
"Mara -- " Sarai couldn't finish, what would she say? Mara had chosen her path. Sarai sighed, and said, "take care of yourself Mara. Come back to me, to us."  
Mara looked away, her fists clenched, thinking of what lay ahead. Her mother would probably not understand. "I will," she lied. They both knew it was a lie, a veil to ease the pain of the inevitable. Mara looked up as she teleported away, and realized that, perhaps, Sarai understood more that Mara gave her mother credit for. The cycle was complete, the bonds broken.   
Sarai and Charlie turned to walk down the path to return to Metroplex. A swirl of regrets, of "what ifs", if only she hadn't hurt Mara. Sarai couldn't sway Mara now any more than Mara could sway Sarai from making the same decision twenty years earlier. She looked at her grandchild, deciding she would do things right this time.  
  
***  
  
(Part 34)  
Mara prepared herself. How much time did she need to complete her objective before Unicrom would retaliate? How much time did she actually have? There was no way to tell until it happened.  
Leaning back against the wall, Mara cleared her mind of the doubts that plagued her. Reminding herself of her purpose for doing this. Her body glowed with the gold of fire, as her consciousness launched in to the Ethers. Focused sharp, a surgical knife.  
  
*  
  
Unicrom roared with anger. He had lost another Sweep! Two more! They were slipping from his control. The strings snapped, one by one, his fingers were being lobbed off. The astral pursuit began.  
  
*  
  
Mara's head rammed into the wall. She fought to avoid the pain and was losing. She wouldn't go down alone. Not yet. The Sweeps were free now, and Cyclonus would join their ranks.  
  
*  
  
Galvatron was startled by the collapse of his second. This was Unicrom's doing, and that puzzled Galvatron exceedingly. Cyclonus was the loyalist of Unicrom's minions. Mara's touch broke his thought. She was in his head, weakened and succumbing to Unicrom's power.   
Mara was freeing him. Galvatron groped to help her, the weight of Unicrom's wrath pressing him down. The sudden buoyancy of his spirit, as the shackles of slavery fell away, elated him.  
~NOOO!!!~ Unicrom's futile scream echoed and faded forever from his mind.  
Another scream, audible, tore through Galvatron. He bolted to find Mara! She needed help!  
  
*  
  
Unicrom, raged beyond rational thought, struck at Mara, shredding through her vary existence. Mara found her voice, crying out as her spirit fled, escaping Unicrom's wrath. The Demon God had lost.  
  
*  
  
The death knell had drawn Decepticons and Charrnese from all quarters of the citadel. Silence reigned. Marcus clung to Lourdes. They watched Galvatron gently lift the body of their savior. Her hair fell across Galvatron's arm. She had never looked so at peace, until now.  
  
***  
  
(Part 35)  
Sarai and Charlie sat with the rest of the Charrnese. Sarai was bouncing her granddaughter to keep her appeased. WhirlBlade, Springer and FlameDancer, the only Autobots present, stood in the back. WhirlBlade felt bad that he had misjudged the female Decepticon. Springer's optics shone brightly with grief.  
Galvatron listened to the mournful eulogy than Marcus gave. The human had known her best. The Decepticon looked at Sarai, and the child she cradled in her arms. His child, her's now. It was how Mara wanted it. Let them have the girl, she would live without wont.  
"Charr's sun will burn brighter, as remember her each day.." Marcus concluded, wiping his eyes, as the rocket launched, carrying Mara's remains to rest with the evening sun.  
  
***  
  
(Part 36)  
"Mara," Prowl said, taking the spirit of his daughter into his embrace. She stirred, and looked up. Her face confused, as she tried to remember why this Autobot was so familiar to her.  
"Who are you?" she asked.  
Prowl laughed warmly, saying, "your guardian angel."  
"No," she shook her head, "I know you. You were there, with Charlie, when I ran away -- and you were there for me when Unicrom changed me. Who are you? Why would you care so much?"  
"How could I abandon you, Mara? You're my daughter."  
Tears of recognition came to her optics. "Father?" she whispered.  
"Yes," he affirmed, as he wiped away the moisture on her face.  
"Did you come to take me home?"  
"No. Not yet. You have a life to live. A life not carved out by destiny before you were born."  
"No! Take me with you, please!" she cried.  
"Shh," he soothed, "I'll be here when you are ready to cross over." He kissed her forehead tenderly. The only memory she would have of this encounter was one of finding her self whole. Never having to miss, or curse an unknown father again.  
  
End--   



End file.
